


The Art of Loving You (Part I)

by Samshine_and_Lollipops



Series: Art School [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Artist Sam Winchester, Asmodeus Being an Asshole (Supernatural), Asmodeus is only sort of Asmodeus, Background Castiel/Dean Winchester - Freeform, Bartender Gabriel (Supernatural), Bigotry & Prejudice, Blasphemy, Blood and Injury, Bottom Gabriel/Top Sam Winchester, Canon-Typical Violence, Domestic Fluff, Domestic Gabriel/Sam Winchester, Established Gabriel/Sam Winchester, Frottage, Heavy Angst, Homophobia, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Janitor Gabriel (Supernatural), Jericho characters, Life model Gabriel, Lucifer is Called Luke (Supernatural), M/M, Major Character Injury, Near Death Experiences, Non-Linear Narrative, Not a death fic, POV Dean Winchester, POV Gabriel (Supernatural), POV Sam Winchester, Past Abuse, Past Domestic Violence, Past Relationship(s), Ridiculous Gabriel (Supernatural), Sam Winchester Has Panic Attacks, Secrets, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, Student Sam Winchester, Threats of Violence, Vendettas, Violence, former porn star Gabriel, past physical assault, religion used as an excuse for bigotry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:46:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 39,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22612756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samshine_and_Lollipops/pseuds/Samshine_and_Lollipops
Summary: With the end of Sam’s senior year fast approaching, it’s time to really get to work on that senior project. Sam and Gabriel are moving in together, work is actually going pretty well. Life is good, really good. So why does it feel like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop?Gabriel has never been happier. Soon he’ll get to wake up to that ludicrously handsome face every morning. He just has to find them a great place to stay. The best. Should be a cakewalk. Everything’s going swimmingly, nothing can rain on his parade. Nothing except… But that’s in the past and that’s where it will stay. He’s looking forward not back. It’s all going to be ok…
Relationships: Gabriel/Sam Winchester, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: Art School [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1491455
Comments: 138
Kudos: 42





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> *Great big note here to explain this is written in a **fractured narrative**.*
> 
> *Please, please read the tags.*
> 
> After much thought, it made sense to split the fic into two parts. I think it will flow better that way. Updates will probably not be quite as regular as you're used to from me, but I'll try not to keep you waiting too long. 
> 
> Brace yourselves... and please don't hate me...
> 
> (Note: There will be a happy ending, but that will be at the end of Part II)

PRESENT DAY

GABRIEL

In hindsight, it wasn’t the best plan he’s ever had. Mensa are hardly gonna to be knocking on his door, demanding that he join their ranks. Then again, one couldn’t exactly call it a plan. It was one of those split second moments. Do or die. Throw yourself into the fray or bow out. Maybe he didn’t choose wisely... But from his point of view, there really wasn’t a choice. No choice at all. Maybe if he had quicker reflexes, maybe if he was stronger, taller, faster. But he’s not. And he doesn’t. And it doesn’t matter at all. No the main thing is… The whole point is. Sam is safe. And that’s all that matters.

He hears sounds as if from a distance. A whole lot of yelling, panicked shouts, anger… pain. His ears are ringing with it. _Sam. Oh no Sam. Don’t_. That wretched sob. He can’t… can’t take it. He curls his lips upwards into a smile.

“It’s…it’s just a flesh wound.” 

Sam looks startled for a moment, there’s the barest hint of a twitch at the corner of lips and then that look of sheer panic takes over again. Sam’s hands are busy with something. Hoo wait a minute. Is Sam undressing him? He raises an eyebrow and glances down. He stares at the spreading red bloom there.

That’s… oh that’s decidedly not good. Not good at all.

His shirt gives way, buttons scattering. That view is… ok that’s even worse. He drags his eyes away to the grim determination on Sam’s face. The sudden pressure, sudden excruciating pain, comes as a cold shock.

“Shhh, it’s ok… I’ve… It’s ok Gabe, I’ve got you… You’re going to… you’re going to be ok.”

Gabriel takes in a shallow breath. It hurts. He holds Sam’s gaze.

“Sure thing, kiddo.” 

He tries for another smile. That hurts too, but it’s worth it for that little spark of something in Sam’s eyes.

Sam’s still talking but he can’t focus on what he’s saying. The words seem to slip away before his consciousness can capture them. There’s a buzz surrounding them, faces appearing and disappearing from view. Is that Dean-o? He looks… is that concern? Definitely anger, but he’s pretty sure there’s concern there too. He almost chuckles.

His eyelids feel heavy, the effort to keep them open suddenly feels gargantuan. Maybe a little snooze…

“Gabe! Gabe! _Please god… don’t please_.”

That he did hear. Loud and clear.

“Stay with me Gabe. I love you. Please stay with me.”

Gabriel blinks his eyes open. He reaches a hand out to Sam’s face. The effort seems monumental. But he does it anyway, rubbing a thumb gently over Sam’s high cheek bone.

“Not goin anywhere hotsauce.” 

His hand drops to his side. It feels like lead, then it doesn’t feel at all. He doesn’t feel much of anything anymore. He’s vaguely aware that that’s probably a bad sign, but worrying about it… that seems like too much effort right now.

His vision is blurring. He blinks, thinking to clear it but… Nope. His eyelids don’t want to open again and… this is better, much better.

_Nooooooo! Gabe… Gabriel……._

Kiddo…

“…s’ok... just a… just a little siesta…”

His voice sounds like it doesn’t belong to him, like it’s sounding from the far end of the tunnel. He has a moment to ponder that. Then he doesn’t think at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooooo sorry? We're going to skip back in time now and over the course of the fic we'll mostly be in the past with little interjections of the present every few chapters or so.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little domestic bliss... well sort of... to ease the pain...

FOUR AND A HALF MONTHS EARLIER

GABRIEL

He feels a soft tickle at the nape of his neck. He shivers, moans, maybe burrows his face a little further into the pillow. There’s a light laugh, then that ticklish brush of something again, this time on his shoulder. Lips, his mind finally supplies, those are most definitely lips. He cracks an eye open, shifts his head a fraction and peers up into the murky gloom. 

“Wha- Whatimesit?”

There’s another light laugh and a kiss is pressed to his brow, long fingers brushing briefly through his sleep tangled hair.

“Time to get up.”

Gabriel groans and burrows his face back into the softness of the pillow beneath him. Just gonna stay here. Just another minute.

There’s a sigh. The bed dips, fingertips running up and down his back.

“Come on Gabe. I’ve already been out for a run, had a shower... breakfast. There’s a pot of coffee on. Might still be warm.”

He mumbles into the pillow. 

“What was that?”

Gabriel sighs. He lifts his head a fraction from the feathery soft comfort just long enough to repeat himself. “Running’s the worst Sam. The worst.” Then he flops back down again.

Sam snorts out a laugh, fingers coming up to stroke through his hair again. Mmm feels good. He doesn’t purr into the pillow. Ok... he does... a little.

“I’ve got to go...”

Gabriel frowns, craning his neck just enough to make a face at Sam. Uggh, how does he manage to look like a goddamn supermodel? It’s the back end of ass o’clock.

Sam raises his eyebrows. Lips pursed. Definitely too early for uber hot bitchfaces Sam, yeesh. 

“Come on Gabe. You’ve got that appointment. Remember? If you don’t get your ass out of bed soon you’ll be late.” 

Appointment, appointment... What appointment? Sam makes another face at him, letting out a long suffering sigh.

“To see the apartment? Across town?” Sam prompts.

Ughh. He forgot about that. Damn it. He rolls over and rubs a hand over his face, attempting to dislodge the sleep from his eyes. Why did he agree to go again? A moment later he remembers. Sam’s hands are on his face, brushing the hair from his brow, then shifting to cup his jaw, tilting it upwards. Soft lips press gently against his, ever so briefly. But it’s enough. Of course he’ll go. Because he wants this. Every morning, of every day. Forever. Or at least as long as Sam will have him. They’re moving in together. Just as soon as they can find an apartment. A place of their own. The thought sets a warmth spreading through his chest. Sam stands, moves towards the door, but he stops in the doorway, looking back at Gabriel with a small smile on his lips.

“Catch you later?”

Gabriel hums and lifts his hips off the bed in Sam’s direction. Sam laughs and dips his head, but Gabriel doesn’t miss the faint flush spreading across his cheek. Mmm hmm, definitely later.

Sam hesitates a moment more. Gabriel wonders if he’s actually considering playing hooky. He almost throws the covers off in invitation, but no. Much as he’d be down for a little early morning hanky with a heavy side of panky, Sam would hardly be here with him. And the stress of one hot, but strung out final year student would most definitely kill the mood. Later. Definitely later.

Sam shoots him one more of those heart stopping smiles, the ones that turn his insides to mush, then he leaves, closing the door behind him. 

~~~

Gabriel closes his eyes and leans his head back into the spray. Mmm that’s the ticket. He really should have forgone the shower. In all probabilty he will be late and big broster will most definitely bitch and complain about him using all the hot water... again. But he could hardly go as he was. Hair bedraggled and still smelling of sex. When Gabriel had shuffled into the kitchen to grab a quick breakfast, Dean-o had wrinkled his nose up and made a face. Then he’d taken in Gabriel’s attire and rolled his eyes, screwing up his features again, before muttering something that sounded suspiciously like, _fuck’s sake_ , under his breath. Gabriel was wearing underwear. Yeesh.

Truth be told, things aren’t exactly hunky dory between them. Sam’s big bro hasn’t exactly forgiven him for stealing his ice cream, a.k.a. the Greatest Dessert Heist of the Decade, and maybe eating a little... ok the whole tub. He was hungry. Really goddamn hungry. Too much rabbit food and god awful running and watching Dean-o practically blow his load every time he inhaled a really good pie. What’s the opposite of fun? That.

Then maybe... just maybe, the little, perfectly affectionate, birthday prank he played on Dean-o... That didn’t go down so well either. Ok so maybe he should have left the volume on Dean’s radio alarm clock a few notches below the maximum. But come on! It was hilarious. Dean’s startled shrieks only just discernable above the blaring 80s electro-pop. Definitely worth the stream of abuse. The ever colorful and actually surprisingly inventive names Dean found for him, before settling down on the ever more frequently uttered, _little fucker_. 

My has he heard that one a whole lot lately. That and the quintessential _son of bitch_ , muttered at regular intervals while Gabriel does innocuous things, such as his sun salutations in the front room in his underwear. And honestly, the added growl of _where’s the fucking eye bleach?_ , when Gabriel relented and wore his yoga pants the next morning? Totally uncalled for. A rather awkward, stuttering conversation with Sam had followed. That... actually that he definitely did enjoy. Sam going all flushed and stumbling over his words as he tried to point out that Gabriel’s yoga pants were maybe a little _snug_ and that maybe... just maybe... Gabriel’s dick was a little too _prominantely outlined_ by the clinging material. Gabriel could not help the fit of uncontrollable laughter that overcame him then, despite the deathly, apparently ‘traumatised’, glare that Dean-o was shooting him from across the room. 

All in all, it would seem that big broster has had a sense of humor bypass lately and nothing that Gabriel does is good enough to patch things up. Baking an extra special birthday pie helped... but maybe the slight... ever so slight, mess he left in the kitchen... Not so much. So he ran out of time, had to bounce. Shift at the roadhouse and all that jazz. Figured he’d clean up when he got back...

He sighs, massaging shampoo into his scalp. Some of the tension melts away with the sensation. Doesn’t feel as good as when Sam does it, but still. He just hopes to hell that this apartment’s the one. They can’t move out soon enough. Find a place to call their own. Gabriel’s stomach does a little flip flop at the thought. Their own place. No more jack ass big bros, stomping around in biker books and seriously killing the mood. No more damn gags. Gabriel’s starting to get a dry skin rash at the corners of his mouth from over use. He aint exactly into the heavy bondage, but when needs must. When delicate ears can’t take his somewhat vociferous exclaimations of passion when in the throws... Gabriel chuckles. Then he sighs again. No more tripping over each other in Gabriel’s tiny living space. The injuries sustained from recent sexcapades gone wrong still a little too fresh in the ol memory banks. He hisses in a breath. No. 

Lotsa space. This place looks, at least from the advertisement shots, like it’s plenty big enough for the two of them. And more importantly, it will be just them. So it will really stretch their budget. But maybe Gabriel can convince the landlord to knock the price down a notch or too. He can be charming, he can be convincing.

And... Well... They can fuck anywhere they like. He draws in a breath through his nose as he contemplates the possibilities. So many possibilities. There’s a large shower room and bathroom. Huge tub, plenty of space for Sam’s long limbs. The Winchester’s have a tub, but it’s hardly used. Way too small to be comfortable. This tub though... lotsa potential right there. On the sofa, right there in the front room, in Gabriel’s easy chair. It’s way too cramped in Gabriel’s living space to really let loose. In the bedroom, the spare room. Dessert play in the kitchen. Hells yeah. So they have definitely explored that in his apartment, but... damn, any time they like. And the surfaces look bigger too. Mmm hmm. He pictures himself perched on the countertop, shirt open, maybe Sam’s head dipped to one of his nipples. Yes right there. Pushing into him. Hard. Fast. Gabriel desperately clinging to him and-

Ah no. Shit. No time. No time for that. He winces, looking down the length of his body. _Crap_. He raises an eyebrow and glares at his hard cock. Pointing to the skies. Ready for action. Only... he glances at his wrist watch, eyes widening as he takes in the time. Double crap. No time at all. 

Wincing, he turns off the shower and hops out, almost tangling in the curtain and face planting in his haste. He towels off briefly, making a face as his clothing sticks to his still damp skin. At least his jeans button up. Finally. Ha! Maybe he can actually go back to eating some decent food. Maybe... Ah shit, no time to get distracted and day dream about fancy pants profiteroles and adding some extra whipped cream to Sam’s skin when he enjoys his daily treat. And that is most definitely not helping with his predicament. Kinda packing some pretty obvious wood there. Ah what the hells. His coat will cover it and by the time he gets there he should be in the clear. Besides, he really needs to haul ass.

Dean-o looks up from his breakfast as Gabriel bustles through. When his eyes alight on Gabriel, he coughs and splutters, choking on a piece of that heart attack on a plate he likes to call breakfast. Yeesh. _Had you kept your eyes on my face, wouldn’t’a happened._ A beat later he appears to recover enough to screech, “Jesus fuck Gabriel!” in Gabriel’s general direction. Well at least big broster’s not gonna pop off his mortal coil. Gabriel pauses just long enough to wiggle his eyebrows, earning him a classic glare and an eyeroll and then he’s pulling on his coat and slamming (ah oops... oh well...) the door behind him.

He squares his shoulders, holds his head high. This is going to be the one. He can feel it. Things are definitely looking up. And he's not, for once, talking about his dick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn't want to just leave with the rather angsty prologue so thought I'd give you a bit of Gabriel being Gabriel. Next update will probably be sometime next week. Hope you enjoy x
> 
> (Note about the structure: We're staying with this time for a little while before skipping back to the present day. Hopefully it should make sense.)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel goes apartment hunting.

SAM

“Hey Noob!” 

Sam smiles as he shucks his coat and slides in beside Charlie.

“How goes ye olde apartment quest?”

Sam sighs and shakes his head. 

“Ah not so great.” He shrugs a shoulder. “There’s not a whole lot out there. But hopefully... Gabriel’s going to see a place this morning. Scope it out. It looks good on screen, but you know...”

Charlie gives a sympathetic look. “Insta-filters and photoshop. Can’t trust anything you see, huh?”

Sam makes a noise of ascent as he opens his backpack and starts rummaging for his notepad and pen.

“That’s kind of the long and short of it. And well... ah Gabriel has... uh, a particular set of expectations.” To her credit, Charlie manages to stifle her laugh, but her amusement is pretty clear. “I guess he just wants it to be nice. Our first place together. You know? But... it’s not like we’ve got a huge budget between us. This place might fit the bill, though it’ll stretch us pretty much to our limits.”

“Not to question your side-kick’s bad-ass powers of persuasion, but... are you sure it was a good idea to...” She trails off, clearly not sure how to word it without saying, ‘your boyfriend has a tendancy to be a mouthy little shit.’

Sam winces, it had occured to him. Gabriel kind of lacks tact at times. He’s charming as hell when he wants to be, but his mental filter can sometimes be somewhat lacking. And he does have a tendency to run his mouth off. Sometimes. Ok, maybe often. It’s definitely a risk, but Gabriel knows the stakes, he knows they’re running out of options and Sam can’t exactly afford to take the time off at the moment. He may have less classes for the rest of the year, but he’s barely started preparation work on his senior project. He’s been working on the wings, putting off the reference shots he so sorely needs to take. At least until Gabriel felt a little more confident and at ease with himself. The time has finally come. Friday. They’re going to try taking the shots this Friday. Sam feels his cheeks flush at the thought.

Charlie clears her throat and gives him a knowing look when he glances across at her.

“He’ll ah... he’ll be ok.”

Charlie raises one eyebrow, but then she gives him a small smile and pats the back of his hand. Sam’s sure it’s supposed to be reassuring, but he can most definitely read the _you keep telling yourself that_ into the gesture. He sighs and runs his hand back through his hair, looking up as the professor steps up to the projector with a expression of bored indifference on his face. Should make for an inspiring lecture. Sam was a little disheartened to learn at the start of the quarter, some three weeks past, that he had chosen another course with this particular Professor. It’s nothing obvious, apart from perhaps a less than stellar grade last quarter, but Sam has a gut feeling about the guy. For whatever reason, he doesn’t seem to like Sam. It could be apathy, but Sam gets a feeling it’s something more. He shakes his head. There’s little he can do about it. He just has to knuckle down and get through it and hope to hell that Gabriel can pull off a miracle in his absence. Because right about now, he could do with some good news. And apparently, judging by the multitude of somewhat colorful messages of complaint he’s already received from his brother this morning, so could Dean.

~~~

GABRIEL

Gabriel bustles up to the apartment complex door without a moment to spare. He pauses, heart suddenly thundering against his ribcage. What the hells is this? He does not get nervous. Well he does. But usually it’s the big stuff. Asking Sam out. First kiss. First fuck... ok maybe not first fuck, that was more Sam. Gabriel just wanted to fast forward to the juicy bits. He makes a face. Maybe not the best phrasing, even in his own head. 

But this... This should be a cake walk. So why does he feel like he just showed up for his first date? Heart hammering in his chest, palms all sweaty. He wipes them surruptitiously on his jeans. He knows why. Because he wants this so badly. Needs it. Sam and he, they need their happy ever after. Yeesh, talk about working himself up into a frenzy. Not helpful. He’s jumping the gun by a long shot with that one. They aren’t getting married. Oh hey there perky gymnast doing sommersaults in his chest. Nope not that... Yet? 

Ok this train of thought is doing nothing to calm his nerves. Sure it’s a big step, but they’re ready for it. More than ready. They’ve practically been living together since the cabin. Albeit with the inconvenience of constant brotherly interruptions. The glares and insults. Insults and glares. Fun times. Only without the fun.

Squaring his shoulders and schooling his features, Gabriel reaches up and presses the buzzer. He catches sight of his reflection in the glass door. What the hells happened to his hair? He runs his hands back through it. Nope not helping. It’s sticking way out at the side of his head. He pats it down, attempts to smooth it behind his ears. It just springs out again as soon at he moves his hand away. That is not-

The harsh sound of static almost makes him jump a mile in the air. There’s another sound that might be a short, curt ‘yeah?’ Shit. Gabriel frantically shoves the errant lock behind his ear before plastering a smile on his face and stepping towards the small camera above the buzzers. 

“Uh I’m here about the apartment?”

His voice goes up at the end, like it’s a question, sounding uncharacteristically squeaky. He mentally curses himself. First impressions matter and that was decidedly lacklustre. If he’s going to negotiate, he has to come across as confident, not as some gibbering fool. He sighs as he waits for a reply. It takes so long, Gabriel wonders if he should press the buzzer again. But then there’s an indistinct snort. Amusement? Apathy?... Irritation? Hells, Gabriel can’t tell at all. However, a moment later, the buzzer sounds and he pushes through the door, a small frown furrowing his brow.

The apartment’s on the first floor. Gabriel makes his way up the stairwell, glancing about as he goes. First impressions are... good. Pretty damn good. It’s clean. Not marble stairs and polished banister clean, but it doesn’t smell of piss or vomit, so that right there’s a plus. The glass partition in the door and a window half way up mean it’s kinda light in here, instead of gloomy and depressing. Nice. This could be the one. Most definitely could be the one. When he reaches the landing he takes in a deep breath, squares those shoulders again and saunters down the hallway, head held high. 

A beat later, he almost face plants, the toe of his boot connecting with a misplaced welcome mat. He catches himself with a hand on the wall, cursing fruitily under his breath.

There’s a sound coming from up the hallway. A laugh. He freezes, winces. He’s half way settled into a self depricating smirk, when realisation dawns on him. His face falls. He recognises that laugh. No, not a laugh, more like a mocking snigger. Hells. What are the odds? He takes in a deep breath through his nose. It matters little. They still need this apartment. He straightens up, lips spreading into a smile. It may be less than genuine, but this arrogant dickbag doesn’t need to know that.

The man smirks at him. He eyes Gabriel up and down, laughing again. 

“Oh it’s you. The desperate guy I bought that heap of junk from.”

Gabriel bites the inside of his mouth, jaw clenching hard.

“The _Fender_ ,” he grits out. He inclines his head, knowing that if he attempts to utter more, the first words out of his mouth will be _fuck face_.

The guy snorts and shakes his head, laughing that goddawful little laugh again. “The Fender,” he says in a mocking tone of voice, one that sets Gabriel on edge. “Oh yeah, sold it on. Made a pretty penny. Guess it was worth more than you sold it for.”

We need this apartment we need this apartment we need this apartment. 

Gabriel plays the mantra through his head, breathing deeply through his nose. He will not punch this arrogant prick’s lights out. He won’t. Instead he twitches his lips upwards in a facsimilie of a smile, tilting his head to the side to indicate his acceptance of this man’s clearly superior wit and wisdom, willing the vein that pulsing in his forehead to quit giving the game away.

The man doesn’t move to invite him in, not yet. Instead, he looks Gabriel up and down again, eyes assessing. Gabriel takes a moment to be glad he’s wearing the coat Sam gave him for Christmas. It may not be designer brand, but it’s clearly high quality. After a beat, the kid purses his lips and juts his chin out in Gabriel’s direction. 

“You sure you can afford this place?” It’s obvious from the B-hole’s tone of voice, that he thinks he already knows the answer to his own question.

Gabriel grits his teeth. There goes any chance of negotiating. He tries for a smile. It feels stiff on his face.

“My partner Sam and I have more than enough to make the rent. Now, can we fast forward to the grand tour?” _Or are we gonna whip out our dicks and have a pissing contest right here in the hallway?_

Something passes over the kid’s face, the expression too fleeting for Gabriel to quite grasp it, but then he’s smiling that arrogant little smile again, stepping to the side and sweeping his arm out behind him, finally inviting Gabriel over the threshold with a flourish that’s more mocking than welcoming.

Gabriel wants to hate this place. He wants to find some fault, some inconvenience that will make it not worth their while. Some glaring flaw that will allow him to turn around and tell this great big bag of dicks that he can stick his apartment up his smarmy little tush.

But... It’s perfect. It’s goddamn perfect. It’s spacious. Light. Airy. All that crap the home shows would have you lusting over. As he moves from room to room, he finds his heart sinking further. He can see them here. He can really see it. The main bedroom’s bigger than his. His bed wouldn’t take up the vast majority of the space in it. They’d be much more comfortable here, not constantly barking their shins on the furniture. The second bedroom, while not as huge, is plenty big enough for what Gabriel has in mind, for what Sam really deserves. An honest to goodness artist’s studio. The light is great in here, two big windows at one end, overlooking... yes you can see the park from here. Sam would love this. They could put a little desk in here, right in front of one of them. Sam could sit here and research, or look out and sketch. 

He draws in a deep breath, trying to hold back the rising panic. So it’s not going to be as easy as he thought it would be. Certainly no cake walk. But he can do this. The giant dick’s not gonna take it easy on him, that’s for sure but...

His train of thought trails off as they step into the master bathroom. Hells. It’s huge. Shower at one end... Is that... multiple shower heads? Yeesh, fancy. But that’s not what really draws his attention. No, what really draws his attention is the luxurious tub. Old school with the claw feet, but also... enormous. Long enough to accomodate Sam’s gigantor frame. And maybe... maybe with enough room for Gabriel too. He feels his pulse start to quicken as he pictures it. Sam sat at one end with his head leaning back, legs stretched out towards the taps at the other end, Gabriel right there in the v of his legs, leaning back against that gorgeous, broad, well muscled chest. Sam’s hands rubbing gentle soapy circles into his flesh. Ooh no, one hand doing that, the other reaching under the water to take hold of his-

“Samantha doesn’t smoke does she?”

Gabriel startles at the sudden non sequitor breaking through his little fantasy.

“Come again?” he mutters, voice sounding a little more dazed than he meant it to.

Dickbrain sniggers and leans his body casually back against the door jam.

When he speaks again, his voice is dripping in condesension. “I _asked_. Does your _lady friend_ smoke?”

The kid draws his eyes over Gabriel’s frame, completely unconcerned with schooling his features. Like he’s questioning Gabriel’s ability to find a partner, let alone keep one.

Gabriel clenches his jaw again. Resists the urge to roll his eyes. Counts to ten in his head, willing his voice to stay steady, steering it away from the sarcastic tone it desperately wants to slide into. 

“No _Sam_ does not. _He’s_ a total health freak.” 

Ok so maybe he wasn’t entirely successful on that front but... the look the kid is giving him, Gabriel’s pretty sure that has nothing to do with his tone. He feels his heart sinking. Disgust. Right. Of course. Because this place was obviously too good to be true. There was never any chance they could have this.

“The apartment’s not for rent. Not to you. We don’t cater to your... _type_.”

Gabriel grits his teeth and steps forward, hands clenching at his side.

“Listen to me you arrogant dick...”

~~~

SAM

Sam says goodbye to Charlie, smiling at her parting Vulcan salute, and heads in the direction of the cafeteria. Their lunch schedules don’t match up quite so well this quarter, but at least they’ll still share a couple of classes. 

His cell vibrates in his pocket. he pulls it out, Gabriel’s grinning face looking back at him. He takes a deep breath... _please_... before flipping it open and accepting the call. 

“Hey-” he only gets one word out before Gabriel’s babbling at him from the other end.

_Uh listen so... um... that was a no go. Complete death trap. Think there may have been junkies holed up in the basement. Or space aliens. Some kind of freaky goings on. Place absolutely reaked of..._

Sam closes his eyes tight, heart sinking. He takes in a deep breath before breaking into Gabriel’s monologue.

“Gabe... Are you sure? The pictures looked...” He trails off, hoping against hope that Gabriel will say _gotcha!_ And tell him how amazing the place was and that they can move in next Tuesday.

There’s a pause, the only noise coming over the other end, the gentle sound of Gabriel’s breaths. Sam finds himself drawing in a breath of his own and holding it there.

_Sam... listen... I..._

Sam clenches his eyes tighter. _Shit._ Maybe he shouldn’t have sent Gabriel on his own. But he bites his tongue, he won’t let his bitter disappointment turn this into an argument.

_It was perfect ok! Is that what you want to hear? Goddamn perfect. All posh ass showers and magnolia walls and hard wood flooring. And..._

Of course Gabriel would still read him, even a couple of miles apart, over a damn cell phone.

“Gabe...”

_Tiny little snag though... Landlord was one giant bag of dicks._

Sam really does clench his jaw at that. So Gabriel got the landlord’s back up. Said something off color no doubt, messed up their chances to... He takes a deep breath. This feeling of resentment is not helpful. Not helpful at all. 

“It’s... it’s ok Gabe. We’ll find something else.” 

But what? There isn’t anything else out there. He’s looked and then he’s looked again and again. Spent countless evenings hunched over his laptop. This was their last chance, at least until something else comes up and god knows when that will be.

Sam listens to Gabriel’s breaths on the end of the line, heart clenching at the thought. He wanted this. He really wanted this. He wants to wake up every morning to those breaths, ghosting over his skin, to the solid body pressed against him, often half on top of him, to the head of messy hair that frequently takes up residence on his chest. Sam is so lost in thought that he almost startles when Gabriel’s voice comes over the line again. He sounds quiet. Uncharacteristically subdued.

_He was... He was a homophobic bonehead Sam..._

Sam sighs. He runs his hand back through his hair, feeling a sudden pang of guilt for doubting Gabriel. Of course he wouldn’t screw it up. He wants this, just as much as Sam. _Shit. Shit shit shit._ Gabriel shouldn’t have had to deal with that alone.

_...Couldn’t stand the thought of us rubbing our dicks together all over his apartment._

Sam almost snorts out a laugh at that, but instead he bites his lip and asks, “Are you ok Gabe?”

Gabriel makes a non commital noise over the phone, then he sucks in a breath through his teeth.

_Not gonna lie Samshine. It got a lil dicey for one hot minute there..._

_Shit_. Sam’s stomach drops. He suddenly wants to be right there in front of Gabriel, checking him for injuries, drawing him into his embrace.

_I maybe told the kid exactly what I thought of him and his outdated douchebaggery. Maybe I took it a little... far... Almost got into to some pretty thrilling fisticuffs, only with added... props._

_What the fuck?_ Sam’s eyes fly open, fear gripping him.

“Shit Gabriel, are you sure you’re ok?”

Gabriel makes a little noise of dismissal before continuing.

_Apparently he did **not** appreciate hearing that my ass was still tender from all the fucking last night... because my boyfriend’s hung like a moose._

Despite himself, Sam really does snort out a laugh at that. _Oh Gabe._

 _Any old how, it’s a no go._ Gabriel lets out a long breath before adding a _Sorry_ that has an edge of desperation to it.

Sam sighs. “It’s ok Gabe. Not your fault. I would have... I probably would have done worse. Just... see you later?”

Gabriel hums happily into the phone. _Hells yeah Sam. Gotta get my daily moose dick... That came out wrong._

Sam barks out a loud, somewhat inelegant laugh. 

_Or is that... donkey dick?_

Gabriel chuckles. The sound chasing the cold dread from Sam’s body.

“Love you Gabe.” Sam says, a smile spreading across his features.

_Love you too Sambear... You and your giant moose-donkey dick._

Sam can’t help smiling to himself as he pockets the phone and resumes his walk across campus. So they lost out on this one. But they’ll find something eventually. The main thing is, they still have each other. Gabriel’s ok, he’s ok. And that’s all that really matters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have somewhat stalled on the writing so updates will be sporadic until I can jump start my creative flow. Sorry :(. I'm still a few chapters ahead so hopefully once I get going again it should be fine. Thanks for reading x


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam struggles to comprehend what has just happened (Present Day)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for extreme angst...

PRESENT DAY

SAM

Sam stares down at his hands. There’s still russet colored flecks there, stuck in the red raw creases of his palms, lodged under his fingernails. No matter how hard he scrubs, they won’t come out. It looks like paint. Burnt sienna, with a touch of burnt umber, a little alizaran crimson. It looks like paint. But the scent... the scent tells him differently. He can still smell it, despite the cloying clinical smell of antisceptic, despite the harsh antibacterial soap. That bitter copper tang. He can’t get the smell from his airways. Every time he tries to take a deep calming breath, there it is again. Telling him what his mind can’t accept, what his brain is busy trying to tell him is an illusion, a nightmare. He’s had countless nightmares like this. The copper smell not so distant from the stench of burning. He wants to wake up. Wants to blink his eyes open and take in the sight of messy chesnut hair, to dip his head and breathe in the strawberries and cream scent of his shampoo. He wants to feel that solid body above him. The press of soft skin, the tickle of his warm breath as he hums into Sam’s chest.

But he can’t wake up. This may be a nightmare, his mind may be incapable of grasping the enormity of it, but he knows... this is no dream.

A coffee cup appears in his field of vision. Sam glances up, just long enough to take in his brother’s drawn expression, the tightness about his eyes, lips pressed into a hard line. He hates hospitals, avoids them at all costs. Ever since Dad... But he’s here. Unwilling to leave Sam... Cas... 

Sam nods his head a fraction. Dean places the cup in front of him. There’s a whole line of them, no doubt in varying states of tepidity. Dean can’t stand to sit still. Can’t just wait. He has to be doing something. He shifts over to Cas, talking to him in hushed tones. Sam doesn’t look up, doesn’t look over. He can’t look at Cas. Can’t see the pain there. Can’t see the drawn fearful look on his face. Can’t see the cold anger that surely rests in those piercing blue eyes. 

He knows it’s cowardly, that he should offer some words of apology... Something. But there’s nothing he can say, nothing in the world that he can utter that would somehow make amends for what he’s done. Because Castiel’s brother lies somewhere beyond those doors... The man that Sam loves with ever fibre of his being... He’s fighting for his life. And it’s all Sam’s fault.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that was so short. The present day pieces will have a tendency towards short snapshots. I had a little flurry of writing so hopefully the next chapter shouldn't be too long. Definitely sometime next week, maybe sooner. Thanks for reading and apologies for really hitting you in the feels with this one. I'll be adding to the tags as forewarning of some things that have come up. I didn't realise I was going in that direction when I started so apologies to anyone who's already reading (Don't worry still not a death fic! It's some past trauma issues)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Gabriel return to the life drawing room late at night. With the reality of the situation taking hold it suddenly doesn't seem so erotic at all, but Gabriel has him. The world falls away and all he can feel is them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After all that angst I thought you might enjoy a large dollop of super smutty smut, with a side helping of fluffy feels.

FOUR AND A HALF MONTHS EARLIER

SAM

Gabriel wiggles his eyebrows in Sam’s direction. Sam looks pointedly back at him, eyebrows raised. Gabriel looks completely unrepentant. He merely mouths something that looks suspiciously like _later big boy_ before turning and falling into the next pose. _Christ_. Sam feels his cheeks heat up. He hears Charlie stifle a laugh beside him, muttering something along the lines of, _Someone’s having a good weekend_. Sam shoots her a quick bitchface before rubbing a hand over his face. He busies himself replacing the cartridge paper on his board, trying his very best not to notice Zachariah’s cold, hard glare. 

The asshole’s already filed an official complaint against Ellen. While Ellen’s head of department easily dismissed it, the last thing they need is to give him grounds to go after Gabriel’s contract next. It wouldn’t be the first time. Sam hopes to hell that Gabriel takes the hint and cools it. He’ll have to draw him aside at lunch and speak a few harsh words in his ear. He feels the tension in his chest ease a little as Ellen glances over at him, shooting him a sympathetic look before stepping up to Gabriel and doing just that.

Apartment hunting problems aside, things have been pretty great in all lately, but it’s never quite left his mind. That little threat. _The last person you want as your enemy is me... I think you’ll find I can be somewhat... petty._ Was it just an idle threat? Was the complaint it? Somehow Sam doesn’t think that likely. But he can’t sit around and wait for the other shoe to drop on his life. There’s nothing he can do.

Sam shakes his head and sighs. Tonight’s the night. It’s been months since the last time. Since they did something so outlandish that sometimes Sam has trouble believing it really happened. But of course there are the drawings, the paintings. There to remind him, to bring him back to that moment. Gabriel sprawled on a chair, where he’s standing this very minute, legs spread wide, fingers delving inside, drawing pleasure from his own body. And Sam standing, pretty much right here, watching, capturing his beauty on paper as he came apart completely. Sam swallows. He can’t think about that right now, can’t sink into those perfect, erotic memories and he certainly can’t think about what they’re going to do tonight. Right here in this same spot...

 _Christ_. He can already feel himself get a little hard at the thought. He closes his eyes a moment and talks himself back. He has to focus. Line and form. He opens his eyes and regards Gabriel’s pose, really taking the time to look before he commits anything to paper. The gorgeous planes of his back, lit perfectly from above, the glorious curve of his... Ok that... that’s not helping at all. Gritting his teeth, he puts charcoal to paper.

~~~

Sam sighs as Gabriel drags over a chair and plops down beside him, sitting so close that their thighs and shoulders are brushing together. As usual Gabriel hasn’t bothered to get dressed like the other models do, he’s merely thrown his robe on, tying it loosely about his waist. Sam swallows as one bare knee nudges against his leg. That’s definitely not helping. He turns his head to shoot Gabriel a warning look, but at the sight of Gabriel’s smile, dimples adorning the corners of his mouth, eyes crinkling... he finds his features softening, a smile spreading across his own lips. He grabs hold of Gabriel’s hand briefly and squeezes it gently before returning to his lunch. Gabriel makes a contented little humming noise, opening his own tupperware and digging in. He makes a face at first, but he’s soon moaning around a forkful.

“Hells Sam, how do you make hummus so goddamn tasty? That’s not natural.”

Sam snorts out a little laugh, shaking his head. “It is natural. That’s the point. I made it fresh this morning.”

Gabriel stops devouring long enough to blink up at him. “You ran, showered, made a heavenly breakfast and knocked up some hummus from scratch? All while I caught some extra zs. That is definitely not natural.”

It should gross Sam out that Gabriel said all that with his mouth still half full of food, but he’s so far gone, so completely head over heels for this man, that he oddly finds his lack of manners... cute. If Dean ever found out, Sam would never hear the end of it. He shakes his head again and grabs a paper napkin, dabbing gently at the corner of Gabriel’s mouth. Gabriel starts to make a face, but then he leans into the touch, before leaning sideways on his stool to press a brief, chaste kiss to Sam’s lips. 

Sam doesn’t miss the sound of disapproval from across the alcove. Zachariah is glaring daggers at them. Sam glares right back. Gabriel chuckles beside him, leaning in to give Sam’s neck some rather less than chaste attention.

“Uggh you two are gross.”

Sam looks away from Zachariah’s red faced fury to arch an eyebrow at Charlie. She laughs as she pulls over a stool and perches across from them.

“No luck with the girl from your coding class?” Sam asks, maybe a little hesitantly.

Charlie hisses in a breath through her teeth. “She has yet to fall for my many and sundry charms.” She pouts her lips a little, before grinning at them. “But... it’s only a matter of time.”

Sam smiles back and nods his head.

“So my favorite loved up duo, what’s on the cards for this weekend? Fun times ahead?” 

Gabriel leans forward eagerly, a huge, somewhat devious smile on his face.

 _Jesus Gabe, no_. Sam grabs his thigh and squeezes hard, answering before Gabriel can open his mouth and blurt out their highly dubious, and likely to get Sam kicked off his course, plans. Ellen may have given them the go ahead this time, but that was very much in an ‘unofficial’ capacity. Because Ellen, doesn’t exactly have the authority to grant them permission to do... _that_... on college grounds.

“Uh just more apartment hunting. The usual.”

Gabriel makes a grunted noise of protest, treating Sam to an almighty glare. Sam clears his throat awkwardly. Charlie just mutters something under her breath that sounds like, _okaaaaay then_. Followed by _This isn’t awkward at all_ , as the glare turns into something a little more intense, a little more heated. And Sam is helpless to do anything but return his gaze.

~~~

Sam stares as Gabriel comes bustling into the room carrying a trash bag full of what looks like... are those pillows? Are they Sam’s pillows?... Gabriel’s?... _Dean’s? Jesus Gabe._ He didn’t... Nope he really did. There’s the sound of a cleared throat from over by the door. Sam startles, looking up to give Cas a small tight smile and a nod. Cas gives a somewhat uncomfortable looking nod of his own before disappearing out of sight. Wow, awkward does not even begin to describe this situation. Sam doesn’t know exactly what Gabriel told his brother about what they’re planning to do here, but from the slightly consipated looks Cas has been casting his way as he helped carry the equipment in, Sam’s pretty sure it was not so far from the truth.

Sam takes in a deep breath and rubs a hand over his face. He supposes he should be glad that Gabriel chose to engage Cas’ help and not his older brother Luke’s. It could be worse. Definitely worse.

When he opens his eyes again, his gaze is drawn back to where Gabriel is busily arranging the pillows on the floor. Christ that really is Dean’s.

“Seriously Gabe?” He lets out a long breath and raises his eyebrows in Gabriel’s direction.

Gabriel makes a tutting noise in the back of his throat before standing up from his crouch, sweeping a dramatic arm over his good work.

“Sam, Sam, Sam, have you forgotten the last time? Gotta have a soft landing. Don’t want my sweet tush to come out all black and blue again, do we?”

Sam sighs. He can hardly forget the last time. The multiple bruises and contusions. Gabriel damanding that Sam finish the job regardless. Sam giving in and fucking him as he braced himself on the back of his easy chair... Gabriel promptly passing out afterwards, giving Sam the fright of his life. _Christ_. Not going to forget that in a hurry.

“But... did you have to use Dean’s? Jesus Gabe, if he finds out... Which is pretty damn likely given that he’s going to come home from his shift, head straight to bed and find his goddamn pillows missing! Cas drove you over for Christ’s sake. It’s not like the two don’t talk to each other.”

Gabriel makes a face and shakes his head. “Ok numero uno, Dean-o and Cassie don’t talk, they eye fuck... and then they just fuck...”

 _Christ_ , Sam makes a face at that. He does not need to think about that, regardless of how true that statement might be.

“...Numero dos, hells Sam have you looked in a mirror lately? Taken in those obscenely long legs? Our pillows alone were not gonna cut the mustard Gigantor.”

Sam lets out another long breath as Gabriel just stands there, lips pouted, eyebrows raised. Fuck it but Gabriel does have a point. Knowing that he’ll no doubt pay for it later, Sam reluctantly nods his head.

~~~

GABRIEL

Gabriel hooks his hands under his knees, spreads his legs as wide as they’ll go and throws his head back against the pillows, letting out a long, loud groan. He should tell Sam to get a move on, tell him that his body is more than ready, his hole all stretched out and loose and aching to be filled by that huge cock. He should... But he’s gonna enjoy this a little longer. Luxuriate in the feel of Sam’s long fingers pumping in and out of his body, brushing against that sweet pleasure point inside of him. Luxuriate in the feel of Sam above him, all hard muscle and glorious tanned skin. Gorgeous, so damn gorgeous. Gabriel cranes his neck as Sam leans back, biting his lip in concentration, adding more lube and watching intently as he strokes his fingers back inside Gabriel’s channel. Long flowing hair framing his beautiful flushed face. Pupils all blown, barely a glimpse of those hazel irises visible around the edges. Hot damn. He stays here much longer and he’s not gonna last long. Not long at all.

Gabriel lets go of one knee and snaps his fingers in the air. He chuckles as Sam visibly startles, as he struggles to draw his dazed gaze away from Gabriel’s hole. There’s a half formed bitchface that sends Gabriel’s heart racing, more blood flowing rapidly to his already aching dick. But then Sam seems to get it and instead looks all sorts of adorably flustered and nervous. Hells kiddo. If Sam doesn’t stop looking like that, then Gabriel’s gonna blow his load right here and now and they’re gonna have one hell of a clean up before they even get this show on the road.

Gabriel closes his eyes briefly, talking himself back from the edge. _Dean-o’s lips wrapped around a huge burger, grease dripping all over his face. Lucy embarking on some serious hanky panky right in full view of all the customers at the road house, Amelia’s tongue down his throat and hand down the back of his pants._ Disaster averted.

“Get your... dancing shoes on... kiddo. Time... to do the... vertical lambada,” he stutters out between ragged breaths.

Sam visibly swallows. He leans forward to give Gabriel a brief, but oh so passionate kiss, fingers slipping from his body as Sam’s tongue brushes across Gabriel’s lower lip. Gabriel groans into the kiss, chasing Sam’s lips as he draws back. Sam smiles briefly before tearing open a condom wrapper and rolling it over one rock hard and heavily leaking erection.

He expects Sam to clamber to his feet, to lean down and give Gabriel a hand up, but instead, strong arms are wrapping around him. Gabriel moans again as Sam lifts him easily off of his nest of pillows, right up into the air, with barely a grunt of exersion. Did Sam get stronger? Hells. Musta been all that swimming they’ve been doing lately, because Gabriel certainly aint any lighter. Sam carries him over to the wall, acting like he weighs nothing at all, bracing him against it while he positions himself at Gabriel’s entrance. All without breaking a sweat. And if that isn’t a giant turn on, Gabriel doesn’t know what is. 

He pauses. Of course he pauses. Eyebrows raised, that ridiculous earnest look on his face that disturbingly reminds Gabriel of Cas. No, he doesn’t not want to think of his brother right now. Gabriel gives Sam a look, Sam’s expression turns into one of mild irritation. That’s better, so much better. But he doesn’t move a muscle. Yeesh. Seriously Sam?

“Sam you have just finger fucked me for the last hmm I don’t know, 10, 20 minutes? Hells I don’t know, I was kinda lost in the moment. I think that might constitute consent, don’tcha think?” He doesn’t wait for Sam to reply. Sam’s expression is too precious. “No? Hmm? Ok Sam. How’s this? I’m begging you to plow into my moist depths with your throbbing manhood, my steaming hulk of manly goodness. Give it to me Sam. Give me that giant turgid slab of manmeat.”

Sam makes a hilarious noise into his shoulder, body shaking in ways that would be all sorts of delicious, were he actually inside Gabriel. Gabriel angles his hips and lets his cock nudge against Sam’s vibrating abdomin. Mmm yeah.

“Did you... did you just... say moist?” Sam snorts into his skin.

“Hells yeah I did my Samilicious. All that lube you put up inside of me. Definitely all slick and ready and _moist_.”

Sam snorts again, a fit of muffled giggles tickling Gabriel’s shoulder. But oh, oh yes, Sam’s cock is now brushing against his entrance. Feels good. So damn good. But he needs. Needs so much more.

“Come on Sam, you brought in the biscuits, time to dunk ‘em.”

Sam leans back and gives him a mildly bewildered, but still amused look. “Biscuits?”

Gabriel rolls his eyes. “You’re the biscuits, I’m the tea. Just...” Sam’s lips are twitching furiously. He looks like he’s one hot minute away from another giggling fit. Gabriel waves a hand about. “I’m ready Sam, time for some hot dunking action. What? It makes sense clearly-”

Gabriel’s words are cut off as Sam decides to explore some hot dunking action with his tongue instead of his- Nope. That as well- _ahhhhh Fuck. Yes!_

~~~

SAM

Sam draws back from Gabriel’s mouth as he slides the last inch into his body. He takes a moment to lean there, breathing heavily into the juncture between Gabriel’s neck and shoulder, feeling damp curls brush against his face. _Fuck_. No matter how many times they do this, Sam’s never quite prepared for how incredible it feels. Gabriel’s inner walls surrounding him, gripping him so tight. Perfect. So perfect.

It doesn’t take long before he senses Gabriel’s impatience surfacing again, muscles clenching along his length, the motion in his neck as Gabriel swallows and opens his mouth. Smiling against his skin, Sam tightens his grip and shifts quickly away from the wall. Whatever Gabriel was about to say, comes out sounding somewhere between a startled yelp and a stifled groan. Legs tighten around him, hands clutching at his shoulderblades as he carefully shuffles them towards the camera. He grits his teeth as he feels Gabriel spasming around him, as he listens with half an ear to Gabriel’s somewhat distracting ‘instructions’, instead attempting to focus on keeping Gabriel’s body steady and firmly held, on not catching his foot on the multitude of wires and sending them tumbling towards Gabriel’s pillow nest. 

When they finally reach the camera, Gabriel leans over a little too far and Sam has to quickly shift his grip to steady him. It’s easier than he thought it would be, physically. Otherwise? Otherwise he’s nervous as hell. The thought of standing out there, so exposed. Trying to get in the moment with what effectively amounts to stage lights illuminating them... with a camera going off at regular intervals... The thought is not exactly as erotic as he thought it would be, it’s rather more... intimidating. Sam feels his pulse race, palms getting a little sweaty. That’s really not going to help with keeping a grip on Gabriel. He bites his lip, closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. He can do this. 

“You ok there Kiddo?”

Sam opens his eyes to Gabriel’s worried gaze. Usually he has to tilt his head downwards to look into those brilliant golden eyes, but like this, with Gabriel’s legs wrapped around his middle, with Sam seated deep within him, they’re almost perfectly level. There’s something about that that’s both arresting and a little scary. He can’t hide anything. Not that he ever could. Gabriel can read him like an open book. Hands come up to frame his face, thumbs rubbing reassuring circles into his cheekbones as Gabriel holds his gaze.

“I just... it’s a lot.”

He’s worried he’s said the wrong thing. Much as Gabriel can read him, there’s something about that phrase that so often sets Gabriel on edge. But this time, this time he gets it. His lips twitch upwards into a small smile, hands threading back into his hair. 

“You got this. We’ve got this.” One corner of his mouth stretches upwards coupled with one eyebrow. “Annnnd if we don’t got this. The pillow fort’s got us.”

Sam smiles, leaning forwards, Gabriel meeting him half way in a soft kiss that quickly becomes heated. He starts to rock gently. _Crap_. That feels incredible, but they’re not in place. They can’t. He draws in a sharp breath, pulling back.

“Gabe we need to...”

“Mggh. Right. Ah sorry. Got a little. Nggh. Must be something to with the giant Moose cock, right up there inside me.”

Sam snorts out a laugh despite himself. 

“Can we... can we not call it that?”

Gabriel raises an eyebrow. “Donkey dick?”

Sam makes a face at him. But then he laughs, Gabriel clutching his hair a little too tightly and groaning at the sensation. 

He slowly makes his way over to the marked out spot, feeling a little lighter, the tightness in his chest gone, the fear subsided. There’s nothing here to fear. Not really. All that’s here is warmth, love... and a heavy dose of the absurd. Nothing to fear at all.

They’re finally in place. The lights are on them. He can hear the gentle click of the camera as it takes another shot, the only sound besides their hushed breaths. Gabriel’s hands are still in his hair, carding through the long strands, golden gaze fixed on him. After a beat his lips part, a soft moan escaping them as he starts to rock again. It’s gentle at first, the barest of motions. Sam tightens his grip and widens his stance, he takes a moment to feel Gabriel’s rhythmn and then he matches it, pushing up into Gabriel’s tight heat as he pushes down. A string of profanity escapes Gabriel’s lips, seeming all too loud in the hushed quiet of the room. Sam has to remind himself again. They’re alone. It’s just them. The building is empty. Gabriel checked it himself, locked the front door. They can afford to be as loud as they want. And he knows Gabriel will if Sam can just... He angles his hips, searching. 

It doesn’t take long to find that sweet spot deep within. There. Gabriel haults, throws his head back, the volume dial suddenly turned to max as he yells Sam’s name, all tangled together with love and fuck and unintelligable groans. And then he’s moving again, hands moving to Sam’s shoulders to brace himself, pace notably faster, though a touch below frantic. He wants to draw it out, just as much as Sam does. 

Sam loses track of time, of everything, all of his focus, his being, narrowed to them. To the feel of Gabriel in his arms, swallowing him in his perfect tight embrace, the slap of skin on skin, the harsh breaths in his ear, the strangled moans and loud exclamations. Gabriel’s fingers are digging into his skin now. Gripping tightly as though to anchor himself. Sam’s muscles are starting ache, but he wants to stay here in this moment, at least for a little while longer.

Except... Gabriel’s motions are becoming more erratic, his words a jumbled mess. He’s getting close. And despite everything, in the back of Sam’s mind he remembers. He remembers just how they want to capture this. They both somehow knew. It’s perfect. It feels just right. But achieveing it, that’s going to be one hell of a trick. Sam braces himself, hand moving into position at Gabriel’s back. Dragging a deep breath into his lungs, he gives Gabriel the agreed upon signal. It takes a moment for Gabriel to register it, lost as he is inside his own pleasure. But then he falters, wild eyes regarding Sam, head tilting a little to the side to indicate his understanding. Keeping his movements a little more gentle, he tentatively lets go of Sam’s shoulders. His skin is slick with sweat, but Sam’s hold remains true. He knows what to expect this time. He won’t let Gabriel fall. 

Eyes still fixed on Sam, Gabriel wraps one hand around his leaking erection, a long low groan escaping his lips at the sensation. He gives himself a few experimental strokes before matching the rhythm of their movements. They take it up a notch again, Gabriel rocking up into his fist and back onto Sam’s cock, Sam meeting him halfway. He can feel Gabriel’s thighs tighten around him, the hitch in his breath as he shouts out his signal along with a long halting string of profanity. With one frantic glance at Sam, seeking confirmation, perhaps reasurance, Gabriel starts to lean back, his other arm stretching out by his head as though thrown back in passion. The strain is intense. Sam can feel his leg muscles screaming in protest as he compensates for the extreme shift in their center of gravity. 

But even that recedes. All he can see is Gabriel. The long line of his neck, lips parted, skin flushed and slick with sweat, wild and tangled hair falling back on his shoulders. In that instant Sam’s sure he’s never seen anything so perfect, so beautiful. And with one final stroke, one last thrust deep within him, Gabriel comes apart, body shaking, muscles clenching around Sam as pleasure crashes through him, spilling his release messily between them. It takes every fibre of Sam’s being, every last ounce of strength, to hold them steady. He teeters on the precipe, then gasping out Gabriel’s name on a ragged breath, he tips over the edge. Pleasure courses through him as he spills his release deep inside Gabriel’s body, drowning out the pain, the fear, everything, until nothing is left. Nothing but them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So writing is finally going. So much angst. This fic is one hell of an angst fest. Lots of feels. But hopefully plenty of the good kind. It shouldn't be too long until the next update as I'm making fairly good progress. Thanks for reading x


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little post orgasmic bliss, a little checking out the images... This chapter is basically oodles of fluff with a side of smut.

SAM

They should move. They really should. It took so long to set up the equipment, Gabriel being uncharacteristically conscientious, making sure everything was just right, that it must surely be near daybreak. They have clean up to do, equipment to disassemble and pack away into Ellen’s office for safe keeping. Sam should check the images, make sure they’re ok. But...

But he can’t move. Can’t leave Gabriel’s warm embrace. Not yet. 

His spent cock has long since slipped from Gabriel’s body, condom hurriedly tied off and thrown to the side. But he still wants to feel this, this closeness, this connection. He buries his nose in the juncture between Gabriel’s neck and shoulder, breathing in the scent of him, the strawberries and cream of his shampoo, the scent of clean skin, albeit mixed with the salty tang of fresh sweat. And beyond it, something undefinable that is pure Gabriel. Gabriel leans into him, temple resting against Sam’s damp hair, fingertips rubbing soothing circles into Sam’s aching thigh muscles.

Sam draws his hand over Gabriel’s chest, to the back of his neck, threading through the tangled curls there. Gabriel makes a small noise of contentment, leaning into the touch.

“Hells Sam, that was...” Gabriel breaks off, whistling long and low, clearly finding no adjectives sufficient.

“Yeah.” Sam snorts out a laugh into Gabriel’s skin. It seems that he’s just as incapable of poetic romanticism.

Gabriel chuckles, the sound sending that warmth spreading through Sam’s chest as it always does.

“No grand declarations of love this time Sambear?”

Sam’s lips draw upwards into a wide smile. 

“No. No grand declarations of accidental Bukkake?”

Gabriel barks out a loud laugh. “Touché.” He furrows his brow and traces the outline of semen painted across his chest, reaching up to his right collar bone. “Close, but no cigar. Clearly we gotta try that again.”

Sam laughs and shakes his head. “I don’t think my muscles can take that again.”

Gabriel frowns and puts more pressure into his ministrations. “Didn’t mean to strain something. Well, except your dick... But... you ok?”

Sam gives Gabriel a reassuring smile, leaning forward to press a kiss to his furrowed brow. “I’ll probably be sore for a few days, but... I’m ok.”

Gabriel barks out another laugh. “Hells Sam, now you know how I feel after your giant moose dick.”

It’s Sam’s turn to furrow his brow. “Gabriel... Do I... do I hurt you? I... I never meant to-”

“Woa woa woa, halt the puppy dog eyes, you’re killing me here Kiddo.” Gabriel purses his lips and rolls over, hands coming up to cup Sam’s face. “Do you hear me complaining? Don’t answer that. I mean about the sex. It’s... it’s sore in all the right ways.”

Gabriel makes a face, biting his lip, caught in contemplation. After a beat his eyes brighten. He threads his hands back into Sam’s hair, pulling just hard enough to- _Oh!_ Gabriel’s smile widens, dimples appearing at the corners as he takes in Sam’s eureka moment. 

“Kiddo, sex with you rides that perfect line right down the middle. I’m not sugar coating it when I say I’ve never had it better.”

Sam flushes furiously, dipping his head and looking away. After a beat he draws in a breath, forcing himself to look back into Gabriel’s eyes. “Same.”

Gabriel rolls his eyes and chuckles. “You won’t be winning a pulitzer with that one Bucko. But... hells Sam, what we got here...”

Gabriel trails off. He swallows, flushing himself. He draws his lower lip into his mouth and lets out a loud laugh. “Aint exactly Shakespeare myself.” 

He makes a growling noise low in his throat and leans forward, capturing Sam’s lips with his own, trying to convey with actions what they’re both failing to convey with words. A loud beep startles them apart a moment later. Gabriel groans, but he soon pulls back to glance at his wrist watch, swearing under his breath before arching an eyebrow in Sam’s direction. Time for clear up. Sighing heavily, Gabriel scrambles to his knees. Sam rubs a hand over his face and starts to lever himself up when something catches his eye.

Oh fuck.

“Gabriel... Did you... Did you just get come on my brother’s pillow?”

Gabriel raises his eyebrows and looks down at the nest of pillows he was just lying in. He winces, then he smirks, then he lets out the laughter he was clearly trying to keep in. Wiping his eyes, body still shaking he looks from the smeared pillow, to Sam and back again.

“Yes. Yes I did.”

“Jesus Gabe.” Sam shakes his head and rubs a hand over his face again. But he can already feel it, his body already starting to shake as the laughter bubbles up from the pit of his belly. Burying his face in his own pillow, he lets it all out.

~~~

GABRIEL

Gabriel slips his phone out of his pocket and shoots off a quick message to Garth. 

_Sorry about the mess G-ster. I’m dragging a little ass today. Lots of sex. If you catch my drift._

He winces as he realises his mistake. He’s hoping Garth won’t pay too much attention to the timestamp. _Oh ah_. A message back appears on his screen an instant later.

_Another late night liason in our place of employ. Oh Big G, you crazy!_

There’s a string of winking emoji’s following the message. Gabriel winces again. Oops. So the G-ster took it that way... He meant... Ah well. He would feel bad giving the game away, about his failure to actually do his job... Except he doesn’t. There isn’t a single thing in this whole damn world that could make him feel bad right now. Shrugging one shoulder and pocketing his phone, he trots over to where Sam is waiting for him.

They simply smile at each other before falling into step. Ok so Sam saunters while Gabriel continues to trot alongside him. Sam’s hand reaches for his and he threads their fingers together. The last time they did this, Gabriel remembers thinking that this was it. Life couldn’t get any better. He’d just engaged in the most erotic sexual fantasty he could conjure up. Made real. Two spectacular orgasms. The evidence of which was kind of gluing his hair to his face. But it didn’t matter. His heart was soaring. Because he never dreamed that it would happen. That Sam Winchester, Sam long flowing hair and legs that go on for miles Winchester, uber hot flannel clad puppy dog eyed Sam Winchester... Had fallen in love with him. If he’d dropped dead right there and then... and hells, his heart was beating so fast he thought he might... he would have gone out with a huge grin on his face. Nothing could beat that. Surely.

Except... Except this does. As crazy as that might sound. That first flush of love... Hmm maybe that’s the wrong way to put it. Gabriel loved Sam long before Sam blurted it out at the most ludicrous moment. No. Not the first flush. But the adrenaline was certainly flowing, the cheeks very much flushed... as well as other parts. It was a heady feeling. He wasn’t just pining after Mr tall dark and ridiculously handsome. Sam felt the same way. Or at least pretty damn close. 

Now though... None of that rush has faded... Well maybe a little. Honestly his heart couldn’t take it otherwise, but he still gets that feeling. Every time he looks at Sam. That jolt of desire. That constant amazement that someone as freakishly gorgeous as Sam would give him the time of day. But beneath that is something more. Something deeper and more glorious. He feels safe. That’s not all of it, but it’s certainly part of it. He feels secure. Sam has him and he has Sam. And nothing’s going to change that. Right?

Something unpleasant twists in the pit of his belly. A thread of uncertainty trying to worm its way through his happiness. There’s one thing. That one little thing. If Sam ever found out... No. He pushes it back. Nothing’s going to rain on his parade. Not even that. Forcing his lips into a smile, he tightens his grip on Sam’s hand, heart lifting once more as Sam squeezes back.

~~~

Gabriel blinks his eyes open, wincing at the sudden glare eminating from Sam’s laptop right next to his face.

“Ah sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” Sam says, hand reaching out to pet his hair like he’s a damn corgi or something.

Gabriel makes a face, then a sound of complaint... then a moan. Damn it but that feels good.

“What the hells are you doing with that thing at the crack of ass o’clock?”

Sam snorts out a laugh. “It’s past 11 Gabe. I’m checking out the pictures.”

Oh! Gabriel scoots up, shivering a little as the covers fall to his waist. Maybe he should have thrown a t-shirt on before he passed out last night... this morning. Whatever. Sam throws the puppy dog eyes at him, arm curving around his shoulders and drawing him into his side, Sam’s body heat and uber hot chest instantly chasing away the chill.

“Any good?” Gabriel asks. “Wait a minute, what am I talking about. It’s us fucking. Can’t be anything short of spectacular.”

Sam laughs and presses a kiss into his sleep mussed hair. “Don’t know yet. Just started. I haven’t gotten past the part where I had a stupid freak out and you had to-”

Gabriel interrupts with a loud tutting noise. “Sam, it wasn’t stupid.” He shrugs a shoulder. “And you’re allowed to freak out. It’s natural. The last disaster not withstanding, it wasn’t exactly something you’ve done before.” He halts, breaking off before he says something stupid, hoping to hell Sam doesn’t ask him if it’s something _he’s_ done before.

But Sam thankfully doesn’t catch his awkward falter. He merely squeezes Gabriel’s shoulder and presses another kiss to the top of his head, turning his attention back to the laptop screen, clicking quickly through a selection of pale flesh colored fuzz that’s most likely extreme close ups of some part of Gabriel. There’s a few highly amusing out of focus images of Sam crab walking them into position. Gabriel’s face twisting into the most hilarious expressions as Sam’s dick moved inside him in all sorts of deliciously unexpected ways. And there they are. Sam pauses as they assess the image. Hmm the angle’s not perfect, can’t see all of Gabriel’s face, half of it obscured by Sam’s salon perfect hair. But once he leans back... It should work. The lighting’s good. The focus works. Sam makes an unhappy noise. 

“Can’t see you. I should have turned a little more. We need to... we need to see your face.”

Gabriel shrugs a shoulder. “Don’t worry Samilicious, we got a glorious view of your shapely behind and once we get to my spectacular acrobatics, I’m sure we’ll have a perfect shot of my beautiful come face.”

Gabriel leans a little further into Sam’s embrace, enjoying the soft rumble as Sam laughs. Sam starts to flick through the images again. Eyes still fixed on the screen, Gabriel cocks his head a little, pressing one ear against Sam’s chest. He hears it. As the images flick past, Sam’s heart’s beating ever faster, pulse quickening as he takes in the glorious sight. Gabriel draws in a deep breath through his nose, feeling his own arousal build. That is quite a sight. Hells yeah. He can see Sam’s butt cheeks flexing each time he pushes up into Gabriel’s body, the light playing perfectly across that well muscled back, sweat starting to stand out between his shoulder blades. Hot damn. He’s so fucking beautiful... fucking. Gabriel chuckles. Sam makes a little noise in the back of his throat, pausing momentarily on an image that shows a little more of Gabriel’s face. Kinda looking all sweaty and red faced there. Super attractive. Gabriel sighs. Sam may look the picture of perfection, but he just looks a mess.

Sam squeezes his shoulder, making a little huffing noise again, before moving on. Gabriel set the timer to go off so frequently that they could practically make a stop motion feature out of their fucking, every erotic motion captured in HD. Trying not to be put off by his own appearance, Gabriel just leans back and enjoys the show. After awhile it doesn’t seem so bad. Maybe he doesn’t look so awful. He’s maybe a little red in the face, his hair may be a spectacular tangled mess, half of it sticking out from the side of his head in springing curls, the rest plastered to his skin with sweat... but... the expressions on his face... He’s clearly enjoying the hell out of himself. With every image of him panting through the intrusion, with every open mouthed groan, Gabriel can remember what it felt like. Sam pushing up into him, setting his pleasure centres alight, making him see spots beneath his half closed eyelids every time he hit that perfect note. And seeing that. Even half obscured by Sam’s glorious long flowing hair. Feeling the echoes of it, the gentle throb deep inside him? Hells is that one giant aphrodesiac.

He feels his pulse quicken, dick all woken up and leaking against his belly. They’re reaching the climax... so to speak. Gabriel can see it in the tightening of his thighs about Sam’s middle. Sam’s breath hitches. He pauses on the next image. 

“Gabriel...” He breathes out.

Gabriel raises an eyebrow. He doesn’t see... Sam’s heart sounds like it’s getting ready to break through his ribcage, the cadence of his voice sounding all... desperate? Longing? What is that? Gabriel stares at the image. The Gabriel on screen has let go of Sam’s shoulders, regarding Sam with half lidded eyes, head tilted to the side, hair falling over his face, looking decidedly spaced out, lips all twisted into some weird shape, brows lifted and scrunching up his forehead. What does Sam see? What does he see that’s made him all weird and breathless? Gabriel can’t fathom it.

After a beat Sam moves on, flicking through these next images one at a time, drawing the scene out in slow motion. There. Though his dick is hidden behind Sam’s frame, Gabriel can clearly see the moment he wrapped his hand around it, mouth fallen open, eyes still fixed on Sam, but going even more spaced out. Oh and there, he’s pretty sure that those lips are curled around the word fuck. That one. That one looks like Sam, though he can’t be sure. Makes sense. The next couple of shots are a little blurred with motion, Gabriel’s arm stretching up, his spine curving over. Sam’s arm muscles tensing. Fuck, look at those bulging muscles. Hells. 

Gabriel’s breath catches in his throat. Sam makes a little involuntary groan. There it is, the money shot... so to speak. The moment Sam took him apart completely. Head thrown back. Face all twisted up in ecstasy, his dick finally making an appearance as he spills his load all over his own chest. It’s... it’s quite the image. As erotic imagery goes, it’s quite the doosy. Gabriel wishes he could turn that camera around, see Sam’s expression, watch him come apart too. But... He stares at his own face. All twisted up, sweaty and beet red. It should be ugly as all hells, but somehow it’s not. Because right there, that’s the very essence of what Sam does to him. Lifting him up, sending him soaring, higher and higher. The perfect sublime bliss... 

Gabriel can’t take it anymore. He pushes Sam’s laptop roughly away. The lid closes with a clatter. Sam makes a startled yelp, lips curling around words of complaint, but he doesn’t utter them, instead drawing in a sharp breath as Gabriel clambers into his lap, pupils dilating as Gabriel grabs hold of a fist full of hair. And then he’s surging forward, meeting Gabriel half way, hands tangling back into Gabriel’s hair as his tongue dips inside Gabriel’s mouth. They don’t stop to think about a gag. There’s no time to worry about it. No time to think. Just time to feel.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellen has a proposition for Sam that gets him thinking about his future.

SAM

“Sam, can I have a word after class?” 

Sam looks up from his work, heart suddenly in his throat. Ellen’s been giving him strange little looks all session. Did they screw up? Maybe leave something lying around. Were they seen? Shit, did he forget to pick up the condom and hide it in the bottom of the trashcan?

Ellen snorts out a little laugh. “No need to look like a panicked stray Sam, it’s nothin to worry about.” She purses her lips a moment, adding, “Quite the opposite... I think,” before carrying on with her rounds. 

Sam raises his eyebrows, mind furiously turning over the possibilities, before coming to the conclusion that he really doesn’t have a clue. 

Time drags by at a crawl. He tries to lose himself in his work, but he’s too distracted. It’s only Tuesday, but he’s already feeling pretty wiped. What time he didn’t spend this weekend hunched over his laptop trawling through housing websites, to no avail, he spent trying to make up for lost time on his senior project. He selected a few reference shots, printed them out and began the process of developing some compositional ideas, painting a few color swatches and trying to get a grip on the direction he wants to take things. 

They were both a little blown away... wow, he can almost hear Gabriel in his head chuckling away at that one... Rather, they were both _taken_ with one particular shot. Gabriel’s body stretched into the perfect arc, muscles gorgeously defined on the arm held up beside him. Face... Sam swallows around the sudden lump in his throat. He looked so beautiful, so goddamn beautiful, caught in the moment of orgasm. Pleasure writ apon his face, cock... Damn it but Sam really shouldn’t be thinking about things like that in the middle of a life drawing class. Getting a hard on right now wouldn’t just be embarassing, it would be extremely inappropriate, not to mention highly disturbing for the elderly lady he’s attempting to paint. He sighs, draws in a deep breath, and mixes up a fresh color, trying his best to keep his mind on the task at hand.

Finally the class draws to a close. Sam packs his supplies slowly, waiting for the class to filter out of the room. Charlie bustles off quickly, mind preoccupied with a brilliant idea she had for her game during lunch break. When the last few students are beginning to make their way towards the door, Ellen ushers him into her office, motioning him to close the door behind him.

“So Sam, have you given much thought to what you want to do after this.” She makes a gesture with her hand towards the closed door. “Once the final year grind is over and done with?”

Sam bites his lip. He shrugs his shoulders, suddenly feeling a little foolish. Because no. He hasn’t. He’s been so focused on the here and now, mind bent to the task of making it through this. Truth be told, he hasn’t given much thought to what comes next. 

“Honestly?”

Ellen crosses her arms over her chest, leaning back against her desk and nodding her head.

“Uh no... I haven’t. I just... I guess I just thought I’d concentrate on making it through the year. Work out what comes afterwards when the time came.” He dips his head and rubs the back of his neck. “It’s... it’s been a lot to process.”

Ellen sighs, but there’s no sign of disappointment in it. “That’s what I figured.” Sam looks up as she pauses, rubbing briefly at her sinuses. “Look Sam, I might be overstepping the line here, but I thought I’d act now, give you a chance at it. I won’t put any more pressure on you. You’re under enough as it is but...”

Sam furrows his brow. What is she talking about?

“Sam have you ever considered the possibility of continuing your studies?”

Sam’s eyebrows raise almost to his hairline. But... isn’t it too late?

Ellen holds up a hand, answering the unuttered question. “We had a drop out. I can’t go into details, but a change in circumstances meant one of our applicants had to pass up the opportunity to go home to Canada.” Ellen pauses and gives him a small smile. “Don’t worry Sam, she found a place at a local college. She’ll do well.” 

Ellen pushes off the desk and circles around it, picking up a form and laying it out in front of him. Sam stares at the header on the form. _Application for Graduate Studies_. He feels his pulse start to quicken. Could he... could he really do that?

“Now usual procedure would be to choose one of the unsuccessful candidates to take up the place. But...” She leans forward, fingers spread out on the desk as she looks up at him. “I argued the case for accepting a late applicant. One who’s circumstances might have prevented them from thinking long term. One who’s exhibition work was of such high quality that should they choose to pursue this, would likely jump straight to the top of the pile...”

Sam stares at her a moment, eyes wide, mind reeling. Then he looks away, turns away, rubbing a hand over his face. This is... He can’t even begin to process it.

Ellen gives him a moment, to have his great big freakout. She waits until he turns back to her to speak up again. 

“Of course Alastair argued against it, wanted to push his own candidate.” At Sam’s questioning look she elaborates. “Professor Richardson. I believe you’re familiar with his charming lecturing technique. I’ll give you three guesses who that pompus fool was pushing for.”

Suddenly it all slides into place. Zachariah. It has to be. No wonder the Professor has shown such contempt for him.

Ellen nods her head. “Zachariah and Alastair go way back. Thankfully Alastair’s petty prejudices and manner mean he don’t exactly hold much sway in this department. As for the rest, they were pretty receptive to the idea. 3 of your tutors already sent me letters of recommendation.”

Sam’s eyebrows raise again at that. Ellen lets out a little laugh before continuing. “To ensure we got the necessary paperwork in on time I took the liberty of contacting Stanford for your transcripts. I got 5 more recommendations the very next day.” She pauses and regards him carefully. 

Sam swallows. He can feel tears begin to prick at his eyes. He would never have dreamed... He didn’t expect this at all.

“I know this is all a lot to take in. We don’t have much time, just till the end of the week, but you take that time. Think it over. And if you decide it’s something you want to pursue, know that I’m behind you. Me and every damn Professor who’s ever taught you.”

“Except... Professor Richardson,” Sam says with a small smile.

“In my book, backward thinking arrogant dickbags don’t exactly count.”

Sam barks out a loud laugh at that, some of the tension held in his frame dissapating, leaving behind something that feels a lot like... hope. 

~~~

_It wasn’t me. I swear. Scout's honor._

“What? Gabe I’m not... I’m not phoning for... whatever that’s about... I... I don’t think I want to know,” Sam laughs and rubs the back of his neck. “Can we meet up later? Maybe at the Roadhouse? I know you were going home to wash some things, but... I’ve... I think I’ve got some news.”

_You’re pregnant! Geeze Sam I thought you told me you were on contraceptives. How could you?!_

Sam sighs and rolls his eyes. “Wouldn’t it be the other way around?”

_I’m pregnant?! Woa woa woa, I am not ready for that sort of commitment. Nor the stretchmarks all over my beautiful tush. Hells no. Not to mention the morning sickness. I do not want to spend the next 3 months praying to the porceline gods while you hold back my hair and-_

“Jesus Gabe, no one’s pregnant. It’s nothing like that.” He rubs a hand over his face. “Can you just... meet me later?”

Gabriel’s voice sounds a little too subdued when it comes over the other end. 

_Ah... I’m working, but uh sure. Shift finishes at 8 so um..._

Sam winces. “Gabe, it’s ok, don’t worry. It’s nothing bad. It’s... I think it might be good news.”

Gabriel pauses for a moment, clearly mulling it over. Then he whistles long and loud enough that Sam has to pull the phone away from his ear. 

_Man of mystery. And here’s me thinking you couldn’t get any hotter my Samilicious._

Sam snorts out a small laugh. “Yeah my brother and I lead a secret double life, hunting vampires and dealing with a magical world that no one else knows about.”

There’s a low growl on the other end. _Damn it Sam, you are smacking down **all** of the buttons right now. Please tell me you do this hunting shirtless with weapons strapped all over your great big muscly thighs?_

Sam pitches his voice low and sultry. “Actually, we wear...” He pauses for dramatic effect. He can actually hear Gabriel suck in a breath in anticipation. “Flannel.” As Sam listens to the vociferous sounds of complaint he can’t help grinning from ear to ear.

~~~

Sam sets his belongings down at a table not far from the bar. Gabriel’s busy with a customer, but he smiles over at Sam from his position by the taps. He clearly made the trip back home to pick up some things after their conversation, as he’s wearing a shirt Sam hasn’t seen him in yet, except in the photographs from San Fransisco. It’s a little smarter than his usual attire, black with red rose embellishments on the shoulders. It looks good on him. He looks good.

“Dude can you quit drooling over your boyfriend for one damn minute. It’s like living in a Harlequin romance.”

Sam startles at his brother’s voice. How could he have not noticed Dean and Cas’ arrival? Right. He was a little too preoccupied. He shoots his brother a bitchface anyway.

Dean just grins and settles into the seat across from him, while Cas nods briefly in his direction before making his way over to the bar. 

“Sit down, Cas’ll get it,” Dean says, eyeing his still hovering form. 

Sam is barely settled in his seat when Dean throws him a curveball. 

“I’m moving out.”

“What?”

Sam feels something unpleasant clench inside him, his mind spinning out all the possibilites. Is Dean leaving town? Hitting the road again? He’s always been more comfortable on the move than Sam ever was. They led a nomadic lifestyle for so long that maybe sticking around one place has felt too constrictive. Sam swallows. He doesn’t want to leave, but he doesn’t want to lose his brother either.

“Jesus Sammy, quit looking at me like that. No one’s running out on you. I aint crossing state lines and leaving you in the dust.” Dean purses his lips and looks away. “You got to know I wouldn’t do that to you.” 

Sam sighs, suddenly feeling foolish. Of course he wouldn’t. But... That still means that... Sam feels terrible. He’s been so wrapped up in his relationship that he never really stopped to think how things were effecting his brother. He knows it’s been tense between Dean and Gabriel, but he just... Well he was just hoping it would all blow over. They should have spent more time at Gabriel’s place. The last thing he wanted to do was chase Dean out of his own home.

“Uh is this... is this about the ice cream? Or the um yoga? Or the pillow?” He tentatively asks, dreading the thought of the answer. “I can talk to Gabriel again, I can...”

Dean waves a dismissive hand as Sam trails off. “I aint gonna lie, living with that little fucker hasn’t exactly been a frickin picnic, but dude, no none of that.”

Sam makes a face. While he understands Dean’s frustrations, he would really rather not hear his boyfriend called that, even if it merely makes Gabriel laugh and then strive to annoy Dean even more.

Dean rolls his eyes. “This has got nothing to do with _Gabriel_ and his complete disregard for frickin boundries. Cas and I,” Dean clears his throat, looking a little uncomfortable. “We’re uh, moving in together. We’re practically there already. It doesn’t make much sense to keep switching back and forth and all that crap.”

Sam barely holds back the laugh at Dean’s inability to just tell it as it is. Clearly a little more than a practical solution to a logistical problem.

“Dude that’s huge.” Sam grins at his brother, leaning over the table to pat him on the shoulder.

Dean makes a face and flicks his eyes over to the bar, clearly desperate for that beer, anything to detract from a converstation about his feelings or big life steps.

“It’s ah. It just makes sense.” He leans back in his chair, arm slung casually over the back as he regards Sam with a smile. “Anyway, I figured since you weren’t having much luck with apartment hunting and since the little f-” At Sam’s warning look, he clears his throat. “Since _Gabriel_ seems pretty damn comfortable there. Well, maybe we could change the name on the lease.”

Sam’s eyebrows raise almost to his hairline. He dips his head and rubs a hand over his face. That would... That would solve all their problems. Their apartment’s not perfect and it’s certainly not as luxurious as the one Gabriel went to view, but their combined budget would cover the rent and it wouldn’t be such an upheavel, it’s... 

Sam looks up just in time to see Dean almost jump a mile out of his seat, a startled yelp escaping his lips as arms suddenly wrap around him from behind, squeezing tightly in a huge bear hug. He snorts out a laugh as Dean recovers enough to shoot Sam a look.

“Kill me now.”

Gabriel just wraps his arms around even tighter, cheek coming to rest on top of Dean’s head.

Cas sighs, giving his brother a warning look before depositing a tray of beers, and Gabriel’s ubitquitos alcopop, in the center of the table.

“Dean tells me you may have some news to share with us also,” Cas says, casting another pointed look at his brother before settling into the seat beside Dean.

“Yes!” Gabriel exclaims, finally letting go of Dean (who promptly straightens his hair while muttering something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like _little fucker_ ). “I forgot. How could I forget. Your deep dark secret.” Gabriel spins the remaining chair around and straddles it backwards, propping his elbow on the back and resting his chin on his closed fist, bright eyes regarding Sam with eager anticipation. 

Sam clears his throat, feeling the weight of expectation surrounding him. But then he really does feel foolish. This is his family. They have his back. Taking a deep breath, he relays everything that Ellen told him. Her offer, her kind words, the unexpected opportunity, the eyes looking back at him widening as he speaks.

Gabriel barely waits for him to finish before he blurts out,“You’ve got to do it Sam.” He pauses, makes a face and, drawing his lower lip into his mouth, adds, “Uh if that’s what you want... Though clearly you’d be a complete moron to even think about-”

“Gabriel, I believe that while this is clearly an incredible opportunity, surely the decision should rest with Sam.” Cas gives his brother another look.

Gabriel rolls his eyes heavenwards. “Yeesh Cassie, no need to get your panties in a twist. I’m not exactly gonna force Sam to-”

“Are you gonna do it?” Sam’s eyes are drawn from Gabriel’s somewhat manic glee to Dean’s... somewhat less manic, but definitely gleeful expression.

“Ah... I... I think I might.”

Dean practically jumps up from the table at the same time as Gabriel does. He makes a face, patting the shoulder that Gabriel hasn’t just attached himself to.

“This calls for a celebration!”

“Hells yeah!” Gabriel exclaims at the same time as Sam and Cas say, “No Purple Nurples.” 

Sam looks over at Cas and they both laugh. Dean rolls his eyes and makes his way over to the bar.

“I haven’t got it yet,” Sam calls after him.

Dean turns on his heel at grins at him. “But you will Sammy. You will. No doubt about it.”

Sam swallows around the lump in his throat, as Cas nods his ascent, and Gabriel hums into his skin from his position half on Sam’s lap. Sam doesn’t exactly share their confidence. It’s not a foregone conclusion, even if Ellen thinks he stands a very good chance. And then there’s that one little thing that worries him. He’ll be going up against Zachariah. And should he win the place... He shakes his head. He’s being ridiculous. Despite his threats, Zachariah doesn’t appear to have the power or sway he claimed to have. Ellen still has her job and he has merely glared across the life drawing room at Sam and Gabriel since the start of the quarter.

Gabriel leans back and looks him in the eyes, clearly reading some of the tension in his frame. “You got this Sam.” He smiles, dimples appearing at the corners of his mouth.

And Sam can see... it’s not just an empty platitude, not just words of flattery used to boost his ego. Gabriel really believes in him. And in the face of that, how could Sam not try? After all, if he doesn’t, then he’ll never know, and with his family behind him, what’s the worst that could happen?

Dean makes it all the way back to the table with a tray of drinks that look suspiciously like Purple Nurples, only bright blue instead of purple, before a look of horror passes over his face.

“Hang on a minute... what about my pillow?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm almost finished this part. Hooray! For once it's actually shorter than I thought it would be. The flow was just going the way it was going and I'm ending part one at a point that made sense, despite it being slightly sooner in the narrative than expected. I think it works. Anyhoo, as such I'll be posting far more frequently, maybe every couple of days or so depending on real life crap. Lots of drama and lots of angst coming your way... with a side of smut and fluff to soothe the sting. And because it's Gabriel, yes I have tried to keep some silliness in amongst all that angst. Hopefully you'll enjoy it anyway and won't end up cursing my name. I suspect you will, rather a lot, but trust me to give you a happy ending... just not exactly in this part... *Runs and hides*


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Present Day: They finally receive some news about Gabriel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: panic attack

PRESENT DAY

SAM

The minutes drag by as though they are hours, the hours as though they are days. He’s accutely aware of the passage of time. How long is too long? If... the worst happened then wouldn’t they know straight away... Maybe no news is good news? But... if he thinks that way then he won’t be prepared if...

Dean halts his pacing abruptly, Sam looks up, heart in his throat. It’s the doctor, Sam cannot remember her name. Pale with red hair tied securely at the back of her head. Expression... unreadable. She makes her way over to Cas. They exchange a few words. Cas speaks up.

“They are his family too.”

Sam’s heart clenches, his head spins, hardly able to process it as Cas turns and motions for Sam to join him. He slowly rises, walking with leaden feet, one in front of the other. When they are gathered, the doctor begins to speak.

“He’s out of surgery. He’s in a stable condition for the time being. The damage was not as extensive as it could have been. However, there was significant blood loss. He suffered a myocardial infarction...”

Sam feels like the world is closing in on him. The lights too bright. The sounds of life support machines and whispered conversation suddenly a cacophany clamoring for his attention. He tries to focus on the words, but he can’t hear properly through the sound of the blood rushing through his ears. _Possibility of infection... too early to tell... know more when he wakes up... If he wakes up..._

_If he wakes up..._

Sam feels like he’s drowning, his lungs incapable of drawing in a breath. He can’t stay here... he can’t...

He doesn’t know where he’s going, the floor beneath his feet doesn’t feel solid, the walls are closing in. Each ragged breath, burns his lungs. He feels like he’s going to vomit, but his stomach is too empty. He’s too empty. 

Finally he finds it, a way out. He pushes through and drags in a lung full of the balmy air. It’s too bright. He closes his eyes, sinking to the asphalt, curling in on himself. 

_If he wakes up..._

The first sob wracks his body. He can’t hold it in any longer. He lets go.

~~~

_Sam? Sammy? Fuck..._

His mind barely registers the words. He has no idea how long he’s been here. How long he’s been falling apart. He’s barely aware of the hard surface beneath him. He’s barely aware of anything at all.

“...It’s ok Sam...”

But it’s not ok, nothing is ok.

Strong arms wrap around him. He doesn’t have the strength to resist. His brother should be with Cas not... not here.

“He’ll pull through Sammy. You’ve got to believe that. That little fucker is the strongest person I know.”

Sam draws in a breath, but the words won’t come. How can he utter the fears that are tearing him apart? To utter them will make them all the more substantial.

Dean sighs and just draws him closer. “In no time he’ll be up and awake and annoying the crap out of all the nurses. You just wait. It’s going to be ok.”

Sam wishes he could believe that. He really does. But he doesn’t dare. Doesn’t dare to hope. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah have I said sorry? Um yes. Anyway I'm posting the next chapter today as well as I feel you could probably do with cheering up after that one and since the present day chapters are so short. I may end up doing that for the rest of the fic. I'll see how it goes.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha I forgot this was the next chapter. Hope the smut soothes the heavy angst of the last chapter. Enjoy!

FOUR MONTHS EARLIER

“Heard anything yet?” Dean asks through a mouth full of breakfast.

Sam makes a face at him, then shakes his head. 

“Ah no, not yet. They’re still making their decision. Ellen thinks maybe by the end of the week.”

Dean nods his head and takes another huge bite of his bacon roll, grease dripping down his chin. Sam makes another face and drops his gaze to his laptop. 

“Gonna shift a few things later if you’re free to provide a little muscle power?”

Sam doesn’t look up. Frankly he doesn’t want to see the chewed up remains of Dean’s breakfast again, but he does nod his head. Most of Dean’s things are now with Cas. Apart from a few last boxes, they just need to take his bed, along with Sam’s to goodwill and then they can begin the process of moving Gabriel in. Gabriel’s bed is going to be the tricky part. They’re definitely going to need to hire a truck at the weekend for all the heavy shifting. Benny’s offered to help with the smaller items, but for Gabriel’s bed in particular... They’re going to need something huge, not to mention a small army to carry it.

There’s a loud choking noise, Sam looks up in concern, but Dean has already recovered, his watery eyes fixed beyond Sam’s left shoulder in a glare. Sam turns around to see Gabriel saunter over to the sofa, flopping onto it and slinging a leg over the arm. Sam stares. _Jesus Gabe._ He’s wearing nothing but one of Sam’s flannel shirts, only half of the buttons done up. Sam swallows. Dean mutters _for fuck’s sake, where’s the goddamn eye bleach?_ Gabriel just looks back at them, expression the picture of innocence.

“What?”

Sam rubs a hand over his face, listening to the continued muttered complaints and profuse swearing coming from Dean’s direction. The amused chuckles coming from Gabriel’s direction. This move cannot come soon enough.

~~~

GABRIEL

The moment Gabriel steps out from behind his screen that Friday, he sees it. Hoo boy does he see it. Because Zachy is not merely looking at Sam with his usual contemptuous glower. No siree. If looks could kill, then his beloved would be swimming in a pool of his own blood and intestines right about now. Gabriel rocks back on his heels and chuckles. A few of the students give him confused looks, Sam looks bewildered... And yes, there it is. Laser eyes boring into him, narrowing, anger flaring brightly within. And look at those nostrils. Zachy looks for all the world like an angry bull preparing to charge. It’s glorious. 

And it also means... Sam’s got the gig. Ok so maybe it just means that Zachy didn’t get it, but Gabriel knows... If Zachariah’s bullying and bribery was not sufficient to land him the place, then of course Sam got it. Though judging by the adorably baffled look on his boyfriend’s face, Sam does not have a clue. It’s cute. Real cute.

Ellen clears her throat loudly behind him. He turns and raises his eyebrows, giving them a little wiggle as her face remains impassive. She sighs, but he doesn’t miss the slight upturn of one corner of her mouth, nor the twinkle in her eye. Theory confirmed. She gives a small nod, almost imperceptable, before turning to face the class. 

Gabriel only just resists the whoop of joy that wants to break free. Looks like they’re going to be celebrating more than their first Valentines tonight. With his heart soaring away into the heavens, Gabriel grins, flings off his robe, and takes position on the platform.

~~~

He fidgets. He pulls at the fraying edge of the robe. He leans back in his stool, catching himself as he almost over tips it. He sighs heavily. Yeesh, just how long does it take to impart good news? He hops up from the stool. He’s way too worked up to sit still. With nothing better to do, he makes his way around the class, taking a gander at the student’s work. 

Hmm not bad... Kind of weird... Nice work up of his cock... Bit dull and flat but ok... Charlie’s caught his good side again. He stops in front of Sam’s easel. He got it. Surely he got it. Sam’s brilliant. He’s a goddamn genius. No one captures him like this. No one. When Gabriel looks at Sam’s pictures of him, he feels... He can barely describe it. But it’s almost like he can see Sam’s love for him, right there in charcoal and paint. They tell a story. Of what they have. It sounds ridiculous, even in his own head, but it’s true nevertheless. 

He smiles, thinking of Sam’s face when he saw the rose Gabriel left on his easel this morning. The note. Just a scribbled heart. There was no need for words. Sam knows. Definitely worth the detour into the rose gardens this morning. Definitely worth the glares and head shakes and... no doubt numerous complaints made to the local sheriff’s department...

Gabriel sighs happily. What now? Drawing his lower lip into his mouth, he rocks back on his heels. Maybe a little peek. Usually he avoids seeing Zachy’s work, makes him feel all sorts of self conscious. If Sam’s work talks of love, Zachy’s... well they’re not exactly what one would call _flattering._

As he rounds the easel he whistles long and low. Holy Full Metal Jacket. That is not just unflattering... that’s... He peers closer at the work. Ol Zachy should probably see someone about those anger issues. Looks like he’s one brushstroke away from overturning his easel and going for Gabriel’s throat. Or Maybe Sam’s. Probably both. Yikes.

Gabriel startles when Ellen’s door finally opens, Sam emerging from the doorway with a huge grin on his face. He closes the distance between them in a few giant strides, lifting Gabriel up off the floor in a huge bear hug. Gabriel does let out a whoop then, one that he’s sure can be heard half way down the hallway. But he doesn’t care, not one bit.

When Sam finally sets him down and steps back, they just stand there grinning at each other for a minute. Then Sam’s eyes widen. Gabriel raises an eyebrow and turns to see what has... Ah yes. Zachy’s little break down. But there’s no time to think about that. No time at all. He grabs hold of Sam’s hand and drags him in the direction of the doorway. 

~~~

“Gabe what are we...?”

Gabriel pushes Sam’s hips back against the wall and turns on the lamp (nice bit of mood lighting there), before closing the door firmly behind them.

“Ah...,” is all Sam gets out before Gabriel’s lips are on him, swallowing his words, muffling his complaints. 

It doesn’t take long before he gets with the program, hands coming up to frame Gabriel’s face, head dipping down to deepen the kiss. Hells yeah. They don’t have long. Without breaking the kiss, Gabriel unties and sheds his robe, letting it fall to the ground and pool around his feet. That taken care of, he presses forward, going for Sam’s buttons. 

Sam pulls away, voice sounding all desperate and breathless, eyes going wide as he takes in Gabriel’s nudity. “Jesus Gabe what are you... We can’t...”

Gabriel makes a tutting noise in the back of his throat. “Hmm, actually... we can.”

Buttons taken care of, he draws Sam’s shirt open, making a little involuntary growling noise as he takes in the naked planes of Sam’s chest. That is the picture of perfection. Oh yes. He closes the meagre distance between them, bringing their bodies flush as he attacks Sam’s neck.

“What if... what if someone... ah... ah... comes in? What if we... get... ah shit... Jesus Gabe... shit...”

Very eloquent my Samilicious. _Ah ha_. The button on Sam’s jeans finally comes undone. Gabriel makes short work of the zipper, drawing the material down over his narrow hips.

“Gabe....”

Gabriel huffs out a breath, but he draws back. “It’s Valentine’s Sam. We gotta celebrate. Twice over. Come on, hardly anyone comes down here and never at lunchtime. Yeesh, you gotta relax.”

He lifts himself up onto his tiptoes and kisses along Sam’s jawline, all the way over to his mouth, stopping there to press a gentle kiss to Sam’s lips before drawing back again, one eyebrow raised. While he’s all sorts of worked up here, he won’t force the issue. The ball’s very much in Sam’s court.

Sam huffs out a breath of his own, eyes darting about the darkened room. Bathed in the gentle red glow with his luscious long hair falling loose about his face, he looks all sorts of alluring. 

After a beat, he snorts out a laugh, shaking his head. “It kinda looks like a sex club in here.”

Gabriel chuckles and wiggles his eyebrows. Then he wrinkles his nose as he catches a whiff of the processing chemicals. “Doesn’t exactly smell of one. But... If it makes you want to have sex? Then that’s definitely what we’re going with.”

Sam purses his lips, eyes wandering over Gabriel’s naked chest. He draws in a breath. 

“Fuck it.”

Gabriel’s eyebrows raise, his mouth forming a little ‘o’. He knows he must look ridiculous but... Part of him wasn’t really expecting Sam to be down with this. He really is rubbing off on him. Literally. Hells is he. 

He lets out a groan as Sam’s hands land on his hips, drawing him near, mouth searching out his lips, tongue delving inside. He raises up on his tiptoes again, grabbing hold of Sam’s neck and pulling him down at the same time. It’s Sam’s turn to groan. One hand leaves Gabriel’s hips, fumbling between them. Jesus fuck yes. Gabriel surges forward at the press of bare skin. He draws back just long enough to wrap his hand around... ah... Sam’s dick is about half a foot above his own... Maybe he could just rub off on Sam’s thigh while... Ooh ok ok... That could... that could work... Sam’s shifting, scooting his ass down the wall, legs splaying as he brings his groin down to Gabriel’s level. Then long artists fingers are wrapping around both their lengths and Gabriel has to bite off the string of profanity that desperately wants to escape his lips. Holy fuck does that feel good. 

Sam gives them a few experimental strokes. Gabriel’s eyes flutter shut at the sensation, the velvety touch of Sam’s erection alongside his, the tight grip of Sam’s palm. The motion would be a little smoother with a dollop of lube, but... ah yes... Sam swipes the palm of his hand over the heads of their cocks on the next upstroke, slathering their lengths with the combined precome he finds there as he strokes back down. Hells yeah, that is so much better. 

Gabriel rocks up into Sam’s fist, matching his rhythm as best he can. But Sam is varying the strokes with little unexpected twists and... 

“Jesus shit fuck Sam,” he yells.

For once Sam doesn’t stop. He just slows his motions and makes a little grunting noise, that Gabriel suspects means for him to sort his shit out. No time for a gag, he’s too damn close. Instead he smooshes his face into the top of Sam’s chest, nose crushed against his collarbone, hoping that his skin will act as some kind of muffler. Clearly satisfied enough, Sam swipes a thumb over his slit again, making Gabriel mutter obsenities into Sam’s chest hair, and then he’s pumping them together with renewed vigor. 

Sam’s close. Just as close as Gabriel. He can feel it in the delicious throbbing of the ridged skin pressed tightly against him, he can hear it in the hitched breaths and thundering heartbeat thrumming through his skin. Sam’s getting kind of sweaty, Gabriel can taste it on his parted lips. He sticks his tongue out. Yikes no, kinda hairy but... _Oh oh fuck shit and hells..._ He presses his face further into Sam’s chest as the words spiral from his mouth. He can’t keep them in. Not with Sam going to town of one of his nipples with those clever fingers. Pinching and rolling as he twists with his other hand. _Fuck fuck fuck, Sam!_

He can feel the pressure building. Sam’s chanting his name in a soft whisper between hitched breaths. _Gabriel... love... Gabe... fuck... love you._

It’s enough to tip him over the edge. He closes his eyes tight, ramming his face into Sam’s skin as he cries out his release. 

He struggles to keep upright, leaning one hip heavily against Sam as he turns his head to the side and takes in a ragged breath. He’s pretty sure he’s actually drooling all over Sam, but it doesn’t... doesn’t matter. It doesn’t take long, just two more pumps, just enough to ease him through the tail end of his orgasm and Sam is coming apart at the seams. Muscles beneath his cheek shuddering; heated skin pulsing against him. 

Just when he thinks he’s ready to collapse, jelly legs no longer capable of supporting his weight, Sam holds him up, strong arms wrapping around him and drawing him into his warm, if a little sticky, embrace.

~~~

Gabriel just about jumps a mile in the air. He stares. She stares back. 

“Christ Gabe that was...” Sam haults abruptly, words trailing off into an awkward cough. 

“Ah... it’s not what it... um looks like,” Gabriel says, resisting the urge to run a taming hand through his sex hair.

One eyebrow raises.

“Or... or sounded like. We were just uh...” Gabriel waves a hand about, hoping that something will come to him. “... Performance art! We were just you know.... with the... and the...”

The eyebrow raises even further, gaze fixed on his hands. He looks down at them. Oh that’s... those particular hand gestures... not helpful at all.

Sam clears his throat. Gabriel glances around, taking in the glorious sight of his thoroughly flustered boyfriend. As Gabriel watches, he dips his head and rubs his neck, cheeks flushing beautifully. Mmm hmm.

“Uh...” he stammers out.

That is not helping Sam. Not helping at all. All sorts of distracting. There’s an impatient noise, that might have been his name. He turns around, a wide smile on his face.

“Sooooo listen Mags-”

She holds up a hand to stop him, rolling her eyes. “Save it Gabriel, I’m not going to turn you in to the powers that be. Just...” She leans closer to him and hisses in his ear. “I could hear you all the way over in the supply room. You might think about turning down the volume next time...” She scrunches up her face. “Or maybe think about... you know, just... _not_. It’s the middle of the day!” She throws her arms up in the air and gives him a pointed look.

Gabriel winces. He tilts his head to the side, eyeing the open door at the end of the hallway. Wow, sound really does travel down here. Who would have thought it?

Her features soften. Gabriel raises an eyebrow. Ah... Oh right, her eyes are on Sam. Oh look, now her cheeks are flushing. Of course. He resists the urge to roll his eyes. It is understandable after all.

“Hi,” she says with a small shy smile, quite unlike the glare he received. As if Gabriel was in there alone, fucking himself. Clearly Sam didn’t have anything to do with it. And thus does not deserve her ire. He really does roll his eyes at that.

“Uh hey...” Sam stutters out. “Um... I’m Sam. Sam Winchester.”

He holds out a hand. Absolutely the one that was just wrapped around both their dicks. She flushes again and takes his hand, shaking it a little too enthusiastically. 

“I know... I mean, I heard...” Her eyes go wide. “Uh I mean, Gabriel told me about you. Not... uh...”

Sam’s smile looks a little on the strained side. Yeesh. Never put too awkward creatives in one place and expect scintillating conversation. Gabriel rolls his eyes heavenwards and makes expansive gestures between them.

“Mags meet Sam. Yes. That was me. Yelling his name. During one helluva mind blowing orgasm. The things he can do with those long artistic figures.” He breaks off into a long low whistle, ignoring Sam’s panicked look and Maggie’s hilariously wide eyes. “Sam meet Mags. She likes to take photographs of my sweet tush and pin them up on her wall.” He gestures at his wrist watch. “Now if you’ll excuse us, this sweet tush is expected upstairs for some creative fun of a less erotic sort.”

“Jesus Gabe,” Sam chokes out as Mags mutters, “Fucking hell Gabriel,” under her breath.

Gabriel just shrugs his shoulders and grabs hold of Sam’s arm, dragging him back in the direction of the life drawing room. 

“Uh nice to uh meet you Mags,” Sam says on the way past. 

Gabriel resists the urge to roll his eyes again as Mags looks like she just scored the Mega Millions jackpot. 

“It’s... it’s Maggie. Oh and Sam...”

Sam haults his movement. Yeesh come on, enough with the pleasantries. They really are going to be late. Then questions will be asked, assumptions made, and he’ll get a goddamn massive chewing out. Again.

“You uh... have a little paint on your shirt...” She steps forward, points. Then her eyes widen almost comically. “Oh... That’s not... that’s not paint.”

Gabriel doesn’t know which face goes redder. Mags or Sam? He looks back and forth between them. It’s a toss up. Definitely a toss up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah there was no way they weren't going to use that dark room at some point XD
> 
> (Note: Notice that little ? changing to a number. Yes that does mean I have finished writing this, hooray! I'll probably take a short break before plunging into part II, but I'm rather pleased I've got this one covered. Posting will be pretty rapid from now on as I'm excited to share. I hope you all like it and don't curse my name too much! See you all very soon x)


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean moves out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah sorry I really can't write chapter summaries... hilarity ensues?

SAM

“I said my left, not your left!... Fuck’s sake Gabriel.”

“You grunted. How the hells am I supposed to know what that means? Don’t happen to speak Caveman.”

“Well... maybe I can’t speak... all that clearly... when I’m carrying... twice the goddamn weight you are.”

“Pfft pulease. You’re just so freakishly tall that-”

“Can we maybe... save the dick measuring... for when we’re not carrying... several tonnes... of polished hardwood.” Sam grits out between laboured breaths, giving them both a deathly glare.

Gabriel whistles long and low. “Check out the sass on you hotsauce. Gonna make good _hard_ use of this _wood_ tonight. Hells y-”

“Sam is correct, I don’t think this is the time... for arguments or inappropriate... attempts at humor.”

“Oh hey there Bon-Bon.” 

Sam swears almost as much as Dean, as Gabriel abruptly lets go of his corner of the bed and starts making hand gestures. It takes Sam a moment to register that they’re some form of sign language. He raises his eyebrows, watching as they sign back and forth. Huffing out a long, put upon breath, Dean lowers his end to the ground. Sam and Cas follow suit. Gabriel sidles up to Sam, signing something at the petite blonde. She’s young, maybe in her early twenties, with big brown eyes and a pretty, heart shaped face. And judging by the look on that face, not named after a type of candy. She rolls her eyes and huffs out a breath, making rapid fluid gestures with her hands. While Sam can’t follow the conversation, he can definitely pick up on the sarcasm. It makes him smile. 

“I didn’t know you knew sign language,” Sam says once their repartee winds down.

“He doesn’t,” the girl says, her lips spreading into a smirk. “He just thinks he does.” 

She signs something furiously at Gabriel, who chuckles, before signing back. While Sam really doesn’t have a clue, he does pick up on a few suspect motions this time that look a little more like obscene hand gestures.

“He also thinks, because I can’t hear, that I am not disturbed by his constant sex.” She makes a few hand gestures of her own, that definitely look a little suspect too. “Like I can’t feel the vibrations.”

Sam’s eyes widen, mind spiralling back to last night, Valentines night. They may have... They may have gotten a little overenthusiastic. “Ah... I’m uh... sorry about that,” he stammers, cheeks flushing scarlet, eyes darting over to the bed. Definitely a little overenthusiastic.

She shrugs her shoulders. “It will be more peaceful now.”

Gabriel rolls his eyes and steps forward to wrap her in a tight hug. She makes faces over his shoulder at Sam. Sam can’t help but smile, feeling a little sorry that he didn’t get the chance to get to know any of Gabriel’s neighbors.

Gabriel draws back and quirks a smile at her. “Come on, admit it, Bon-Bon. You’ll miss me.”

She raises an eyebrow and makes a few gestures, before breaking down into a smile and giving him a little hug of her own. 

“My name is Bonnie. He knows I hate that name, but he uses it anyway.” She makes a face at Gabriel as she steps, back before waving to Dean and Cas, and turning to smile at Sam. “Nice to meet you Sam. I am sorry for your neighbors.”

Sam snorts out a laugh and shakes his head. “Uh nice to meet you too.”

Dean barks out a laugh from his position, leaning against Gabriel’s apartment building wall. “She does have a point there Sammy.”

Gabriel’s overly dramatic attempts at appearing mortally offended are somewhat belied by the filthy smirk playing about his lips. Sam sighs and rubs a hand over his face. Yeah she probably does.

~~~

Sam flops back on the wide expanse of Gabriel’s bed, feeling every ounce of the strain his body’s just been subjected to. He’s aching in muscles he didn’t even know he had. But it’s done. Albeit with blood, sweat and tears. And that’s not even a figure of speech. He holds his hand up in front of him, frowning at his grazed knuckles. Curtesy of Dean’s impatience of course. Although it perhaps had a little to do with Gabriel taking every opportunity to wind him up. The tears? He’s going to put that on Dean too. He’s just glad he was able to halt the motion before Gabriel’s foot was completely crushed. At least Dean did apologise for that one. Even if they were back to the bickering moments later. The sweat? Self explanatory. He should really take a shower, but he’s too wiped out to move. He closes his eyes and let’s himself just lie there, Gabriel’s superior mattress a welcome comfort.

Their mattress... Not Gabriel’s, but theirs... It still feels a little strange to think that way. But... it’s really happening. All of Dean’s belongings are gone, his room bare except Gabriel’s easy chair and a couple of shelving units, left there until they figure out what they’re going to do with it all. 

Despite his excitement, despite wanting this so badly... It’s going to be a wrench. He’s not sure he really figured how much of one until he saw that empty room. It’s been just them, together, for so long. And he knows it’s ridiculous. Cas’ apartment is barely a few streets away. They’ll see each other plenty...

But... 

He draws in a breath, feeling his eyes begin to get a little watery. Damn is he glad Dean’s not in here to see this. He’d never hear the end of it. He blinks, rubs at his eyes and-

_JESUS FUCK!_

He let’s out a strangled choked off yell as something hard and ice cold lands on his groin.

The tears really do come now. Streaming down his face as he curls up, hands instinctively shielding his crotch from further injury.

_What the-_

“Yowch. Ah... sorry Samshine. I was aiming for your chest.”

“Damn it Gabe,” Sam grits out between clenched teeth, drawing in a ragged breath as the pain starts to subside. “Why the hell would you throw it at all?”

“Ah... good point.” 

The bed dips, the projectile, a seemingly innocuous pack of frozen peas half wrapped in a kitchen towel, is pressed, with a lot more care, over his scraped knuckles. 

He hisses in a breath. That actually... That actually helps. He rolls over onto his back, taking the pack from Gabriel’s hand. Gabriel frowns, eyes searching his face. 

“You ah... you have...” He reaches out a hand and swipes away the tears from one cheek. “Are you ok?”

“What, besides from having frozen vegetables lobbed at my crotch from a great distance?” Sam says with a pointed look at the projectile in question, then at Gabriel.

Gabriel rolls his eyes. “Yeesh Sam, you’re turning into me. Or is it Dean-o. Deflection? Distraction? Emotional constipation? Take your pick. Don’t think I don’t see straight through it Mr Sassy Pants.”

Sam huffs out an annoyed breath.

“Goddamn it Gabe. This,” he waves a hand at his face, “is because it feels like I just got sucker punched in the nuts by Mr Freeze.”

“Mr Freeze? Really? I woulda gone with Iceman or Killer Frost. Hmm, or even Elsa...” He wiggles his eyesbrows briefly at Sam. Sam flushes despite himself, memories of last night coming to the forefront once more. “But,” Gabriel holds up an index finger. “Sam...”

And Gabriel just has to look at him. _Fuck_. Sam sighs and rubs a hand over his face.

“I’m going to... I’m going to miss Dean.” 

Gabriel makes a little humming noise in the back of this throat, like he expected as much. Sam swipes away the remaining tears. 

“Look I... It’s just been us for a long time and I...” He bites his lower lip and looks up at Gabriel, willing him to understand. “I want... I want this so badly, believe me.” He reaches out a hand to cradle Gabriel’s jaw, thumb absently mimicking the motion Gabriel made moments before. “But...”

Gabriel makes a little tutting noise in the back of his throat before stretching out beside Sam, neck coming to rest on Sam’s bicep as Sam shifts position to accomodate him. 

“You’re allowed to feel sad Sam. I know it doesn’t mean you’re having second thoughts...” He tenses and cranes his neck around. “Unless you.... You're not having second thoughts, are you?”

“Of course not Gabe.” 

Gabriel settles back down and Sam strokes his fingers gently through his hair. “I can’t wait for it to be just us. No more gag... Unless you want to.” Gabriel makes a noise like he’d be quite happy to burn the fucking thing. Sam has to agree. “No more interruptions. We can just... be.”

Gabriel makes a contented little humming noise, leaning into the touch. Sam smiles and, discarding the peas, he reaches over and runs the fingertips of his other hand over Gabriel’s chest, stopping to rub circles over the peaked flesh pressing against his shirt. Gabriel gasps and pushes his chest upwards. Sam teases at the nipple for a moment before moving his hand a little futher south. 

“Are you...” Gabriel gasps again as Sam’s fingers trail over his ribs. “Are you... trying to seduce me, Sam Winchester.”

“Maybe,” Sam says with a small smile, splaying his palm over Gabriel’s belly, before edging his fingertips below the waistband of Gabriel’s jeans.

Gabriel’s hips lift off the bed momentarily. Then he hisses in a breath, grabbing hold of Sam’s hand to stop his motion. Sam frowns. Gabriel turns around and tilts his head upwards, threading their fingers together at the same time. 

“Much as I would absolutely be up for some serious nipple teasing fun... I mean, Hells, what am I saying? I’m already very much up.” He smirks and motions down the length of his body with his eyes. “But... Much as I’m loathe to say it... We can do this anytime. Dean-o’s ordering takeout. Maybe we could just go out there and spend a little quality time with our annoying bros? One last hoorah before we go our separate ways and shack up in our own lil love nests.”

Sam snorts out a laugh, the somewhat absurd image of Dean making a nest out of pillows for him and Cas to sleep in, popping into his mind. He shakes his head. “I’m kinda stinky.”

“Pfft, so are they, believe me. Cassie just shifted furniture in a trench coat. He is definitely not all fresh and fragrant. No one cares. Let’s just sit back, relax, eat pizza, drink beer...” Sam raises his eyebrows at that. Gabriel does not, under any circumstances, drink beer. “Ok, you philistines drink beer. I’ll show my superior taste and class with some bourbon.”

Sam lets out a long breath, carding his fingers through the curls at the back of Gabriel’s neck. “Ok, you’re right. Ok.”

Gabriel smiles, leaning forward to press a brief kiss to Sam’s lips before rolling off the bed and limping to his feet, offering Sam a hand up. Sam can’t help but smile back. Gabriel’s right. He needs to do this. He needs to say goodbye.

~~~

Dean knocks back the rest of his glass and gets to his feet with a slight sway. In the end they all hit the bourbon. It seemed appropriate to mark the occassion.

“Time to hit the road.”

“You mean the sidewalk right? You are coming back for the car tomorrow?”

Dean makes a face at him. “Of course I’m not driving. You really think I’d risk Baby like that?” 

He rolls his eyes and huffs out a long breath, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. Sam raises his eyebrows. 

Dean makes a face again, before stepping forward and clapping him on the shoulder. “Really gonna miss you bitching at me, Sammy.”

Sam snorts out a laugh and shakes his head, before bringing both his arms up and wrapping them around his brother. “Come here jerk.”

“Enough with the chick flick moments Sammy,” Dean grumbles after a beat. “I’m not moving to the frickin moon.”

Sam laughs again, but after one last squeeze, lets go. “I’ll still miss you.”

“Yeah yeah, for about five minutes, then you’ll be too busy.” He makes a face as he realises what he just said. His eyes flick over to the kitchen where Gabriel and Cas are talking in low voices, clearly giving them a little space. He shivers and shakes his head. “You know what I won’t miss?”

“Barging in unannounced?”

“Dude seriously? Sock on the-”

“Door?” Sam raises his shoulders. “Or you know, knocking before you come in. Honestly I think you kind of deserved what you got there.”

Dean grimaces. “No one, and I mean no one, deserves to see... no I can’t even say it. Trying to purge the memory from my skull right now.” He shakes his head and shivers again.

“So you won’t use the spare key to just come in here whenever you like and raid our fridge?” Sam raises one eyebrow.

“Honestly? I value my sanity way too much to make that mistake.” Dean makes a face as he ponders the possibilities. “Dude, you realise Gabriel’s just gonna stop wearing clothes at all. Probably parade around here in the altogether... Shit I just gave myself a visual.”

Sam looks over to the kitchen where Cas is giving Gabriel a long suffering look as Gabriel makes a few explicit hand gestures. Yeah... Dean may be right. The idea isn’t exactly an unappealing one.

“Well shit, it’s getting late and I aint exactly sticking around here to find out.” 

Dean shrugs his leather jacket on and walks over towards the door, a wearily relieved Cas trailing along behind him. He stops just short, stepping up to Sam again and resting a hand on his shoulder. 

“You take care, man.” He squeezes Sam’s shoulder. Eyes flicking over to Gabriel he adds, “You too... little fucker.”

Gabriel chuckles, rocking back on his heels. “Love you too Dean-o.”

Cas leads the way out of the door, wishing Sam and Gabriel good luck. Dean pauses in the doorway. He looks back, eyes going a little misty as they pass over the room, landing lastly on Sam. He gives one more smile.

“Bitch.”

Sam smiles back. “Jerk.”

As Dean pulls the door closed Gabriel pipes up with, “Wankmuffin.”

Sam turns to stare at him. “Wank...muffin?”

Gabriel shrugs his shoulders. “One of Balthy’s favorites. Thought it sounded quite... poetic.”

Sam laughs and closes the distance between them, wrapping his arms around Gabriel’s waist and drawing him close. “What do you say we try out that _hard_ wood we were lugging around earlier?”

Gabriel draws in a long breath through his nose, nostrils flaring, eyebrows dancing over his forehead. Then he lets out a huge yawn, desperately trying to stifle it with a hand to his mouth.

“Or we could just sleep,” Sam says with a smile, bringing a hand up to brush an errant lock of hair from Gabriel’s forehead. “Save it for tomorrow.” 

Gabriel looks like he’s going to complain profusely for a moment, but then he just nods his head, smiling a small weary smile. Sam takes hold of his hand, threading their fingers together and leading him through to the bedroom. It’ll keep. They’ve got time now. All the time in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said every _couple_ of days, but I'm ever impatient to share. I won't throw it at you in one lump as I'm doing a fair few read throughs and a little editing along the way, but yeah looks like I'm posting faster than expected. I can't promise a chapter every day, but most days it seems. Hope you enjoyed the silliness and fluff and I'll see you very soon!
> 
> Oh almost forgot! So you will note I used Bonnie and not Eileen. Seems like an odd choice since it's primarily a Supernatural fic. However, since I'm watching at UK pace I haven't really seen much of Eileen and feel like I don't really know her yet. And... well I just really loved Bonnie and wanted to write her. She's older than she is in Jericho and moved out from the farm to make her own way (and given that the whole apocalyptic events of Jericho didn't happen here... yeah. I won't say more), though you can bet she's always going back for Sunday lunch and helping out at harvest time.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke's arrival at the hospital causes...issues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously I can't write summaries. So ah, warning for... For tearing your hearts apart? Yeah probably that.

PRESENT DAY

SAM

Sam startles. He draws in a sharp breath, the sudden commotion breaking through his quiet reverie. His heart is in his throat. Has something happened? Is Gabriel...

His eyes flash to Cas. There’s despair in his eyes... worry yes... but not for Gabriel. His hand is against the wall, fingers closing around the fist that tried to connect with it, voice a low rumble, hushed, even as the words directed towards him are anything but.

Luke. His voice is full of anger, raw and ragged anger. There’s a naked pain there, barely concealed beneath the rage. Sam looks away. He can’t watch. 

He doesn’t understand. Of everyone, he thought... He thought that Luke would blame him. That the instant he arrived, all that rage would be directed towards him. Part of him wants it, as absurd as that seems. He wants to confront it. Let Luke tear him apart piece by piece. It’s what he deserves.

“...too weak to do what needs to be done then screw you Castiel...” 

Sam glances up again as Luke storms past him. The harried staff member on reception looks nervous, hand poised over the phone on her desk. 

“Luke. You cannot... Gabriel would not want you to-”

Luke spins around at the door, arms in the air. “Gabriel wouldn’t what? He’s not doing much of anything right now, is he? Probably not much going on in the ol noodle right this instant. You really think it’s all going to turn out ok? That his brains aren’t so much scrambled mush? You really like the odds they gave you huh? You’re delusional Castiel. I’m not going to wait around and find out.” 

Sam’s heart’s hammering in his chest. He stares as Luke turns and pushes his way forcefully through the swing doors, glaring at anyone who gets in his way. Is Luke right? Is Gabriel... Even if he survives... even if he wakes... Will he... Will he ever be the same? 

_...Oxygen deprivation... Significant blood loss... Myocardial infarction..._ Heart attack. That’s a heart attack. His brain was starved of oxygen... He might never...

Sam runs his hands through his hair, mind spinning, barely aware of Cas’ attempts to leave and Dean stopping him, reassuring him that he can handle it.

The door swings shut behind Dean. Cas slumps into a chair, face held in his hands. A sob escapes him. It barely sounds like him at all. Cas never cries. Sam should comfort him... he should...

_...You really think it’s all going to turn out ok? That his brains aren’t so much scrambled mush?..._

Anger flairs within him. He clenches his jaw, stares down at hands that have curled into fists. This is his fault. But it’s not his fault alone. Maybe Luke has it right. And the thing is... It doesn’t matter. What happens to him doesn’t matter anymore. And that... that means he’s free.

Without another glance at Cas, Sam rises to his feet. When the door swings shut behind him, he doesn’t look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I said I was sorry? Soooooo as was predicted by at least one of my lovely readers, Luke did not exactly take the news well. As to where he was, I tried to fit it in the narrative, but it didn't work here. Once the "past" catches up to the "present" some things will slowly be revealed. But yeah basically he's been going back and forth to visit his girlfriend in Topeka rather a lot. He had a few days off work so that's why he wasn't around when what happened, happened. He obviously came back straight away.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The shit is about to hiteth the fan...eth...

FOUR MONTHS EARLIER

GABRIEL

Gabriel flings his head back and gasps. The hand on him stills abruptly, a few fruity swear words muttered into Gabriel’s hair. Ah oops. Did he just accidentally headbutt Sam backwards? He winces and cranes his neck. 

“Ah sorry there hotsauce, didn’t mean to uh... give you the Haggis kiss.”

“Haggis?” Sam says in an incredulous voice, hand leaving Gabriel’s body, presumably to rub at where it hurts. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Gabriel snaps his fingers in the air. “Oh no wait... Glasgow... Glasgow kiss. You know? Bit of a greeting over there. Bagpipes and headbutts.”

“Gabe... I’m pretty sure it’s just a figure of speech. I don’t think they actually go around... doing that.” 

Gabriel shrugs a shoulder, waiting patiently for Sam to resume his ministrations. After a beat, he shuffles his hips back a little. _Come on Sam... please._ Hot breath huffs over the back of his neck. It sends shivers down his spine. There are muttered words, but then long fingers are wrapping around him again, a warm body spooning around him. Mmm hmm. This is the way to wake up. Definitely the way.

He leans back into the embrace, careful not to make any sudden jarring movements. The pace picks up, Sam swiping his fingers over his cock head with every second or third stroke, teasing at his slit, smearing precome all over his shaft on the way back down. _Fuck_. It feels so good. So damn good. He mutters his pleasure into the stillness of the room, letting Sam know just what he’s doing to him, urging him on. _Faster, rougher, more... Fuck_. Sam’s breath ghosts over his skin. Is that a laugh? Gabriel revels in it. 

He pushes his ass back in invitation. _More. Fuck. Sam_. Sam’s hips shuffle backwards, his other hand running over Gabriel’s rump. _Ah fuck_. Sam’s spreading his cheeks and dipping a finger inbetween. _God fuck yes_. Gabriel pushes back, one slicked up fingertip slipping gently inside his body. _Yes yes yes. Sam. More._ There’s another laugh, right by his ear and then- _Holy mother of fuck_. Gabriel’s body shudders uncontrollably as Sam takes his earlobe into his mouth at the same time as he plunges the finger inside. _Jesus fuck!_

_Good thing he did not use his teeth_ , Gabriel thinks deliriously, _Woulda been down one earlobe there_. He has lost absolutely all control over his muscles. He feels them clenching and unclenching spasmodically, as Sam continues to play his body like he’s a damned harpsicord. But Sam has him. Somehow, impossibly, Sam has him. 

_There. There. God Sam fuck love fuck._ Stars flash behind his eyelids as his body shudders once more, pleasure centres firing on all cylinders as he spills his release. 

Sam holds him through it, until the trembling finally subsides. Then he holds him a little longer. Gabriel’s close to drifting off again when the bed shifts, long limbs finally untangling from his. He makes a sound of complaint. Soft kisses are pressed down his spine, but the warm body still moves away. He makes another muffled complaint into his pillow, body too lax for movement. There’s a soft laugh and then nothing. He grumbles, burrowing futher into the soft covers. Ok, so they’re kinda wet and sticky, but he’s still far too comfortable to shift.

He’s practically entering snorgasm land when something damp and cold flops uncerimoniously over his face. A startled yelp escapes him, limbs flailing.

_What the Hells?_

There’s a loud and quite frankly embarassingly donkey-like laugh. _Yeesh Sam. Really?_ He grabs the wet washcloth from his face and glares up at Sam’s ridiculous, dorky face. He looks so damned pleased with himself.

“Sorry Aurora, thought you could do with a clean up.”

“So you thought you’d thro-” Gabriel breaks off rolling his eyes as Sam raises his eyebrows, lips pursed, but with one corner quirking upwards. Oh for the love of...

He will absolutely not give Sam the satisfaction. Instead he throws off the sticky covers and begins to wipe himself off, making sure to spread his legs extra wide, giving Sam a good show. He flushes beautifully, dipping his head before looking away, a small smile playing about his lips. 

“I need to head off. Can you throw the covers in the wash before you leave?”

Gabriel frowns. “But you didn’t...”

Sam steps forward, leans over him and presses a kiss to his temple. “It’s ok. I can wait.” Gabriel makes a face at that, but Sam just smiles again, pressing their foreheads together briefly and tucking a lock of hair behind Gabriel’s ear before drawing back. “I’ve got classes to get to. Is Benny helping you shift the rest of your things tonight?”

Gabriel nods his head. His lease runs out this weekend. But by the end of today he’ll be officially moved in, all his crap in boxes strewn about the floor. Even more than it is now. It will be weird leaving his humble abode behind. Weird but decidedly amazing. He can’t wait. Definitely going to be some serious celebrating tonight. 

Sam gives him one more smile before shifting to the door. “Catch you at class later?”

Gabriel smiles broadly. Seeing Sam at work is one of his favorite things. Sam hesitates at the doorway for a moment more. The way he’s looking at Gabriel... it’s swiftly turning his insides to mush. Then he murmers, “I love you.” Heart singing in Gabriel’s chest, he returns the sentiment, barely able to keep the smile from his face, even long after Sam has left.

~~~

SAM

Sam smiles to himself as he packs away his things. It’s been a good session. Maybe he’s finally getting into the swing of things, relaxing and actually enjoying his course, rather than panicking all the damn time. Making headway with his senior project has certainly helped. But he’s sure it’s a whole lot more than that. When he moved here last August, he didn’t really know what was in store for him. Fast forward through less than a year and it’s like his life has taken a complete about spin, his whole world shifting into something he never dreamed it could be. For once he knows where things are headed. Maybe not wholesale, but it feels like he’s no longer just living day to day. Just trying to make it through. He lived like that for so long that it almost became a habit. 

But it changed. Bit by bit. He started thinking long term. Not just about the next hour, day, week, or even month. Because now, finally, it feels like he has a future. Graduate studies, friends, family... He waves to Charlie as she throws one of her parting Vulcan salutes before bustling off to her next class. He slips his work into his folder, eyes inevitably drawn over to the screen where Gabriel is changing into his regular clothes. 

Gabriel. When he thinks of that future, he sees the life he has built. His family. But most of all, he sees Gabriel. 

He’s not sure how long he’s been standing there, staring at the screen, mind drifting, but suddenly he’s very aware that although the class has departed, one person remains. Sam’s heart sinks. He doesn’t want to deal with Zachariah’s shit. Not today. Gabriel’s moving the rest of his belongings today. It’s the beginning of the rest of their lives together. It may seem hokey, but he feels it, so certain that it’s true. He doesn’t want Zachariah’s petty crap to throw a shadow over that. He tries to ignore the man, but there’s something about the glint in his eye as he walks over, something that makes Sam stand up straighter, take note. Whatever is making him smile like that. It can’t be good. Can’t be good at all.

“Samuel,” Zachariah stops just short, eyes studying Sam’s tense frame. 

Sam takes in a deep breath, willing his body to relax. He won’t give this man the satisfication of seeing just how on edge he is. He tilts his chin upwards, meeting Zachariah’s eyes. 

“Actually I just go by Sam.” No one has called him that since his father and that was only when he was super pissed... Sam hardly liked it from him and he most certainly won’t take it from someone like Zachariah.

Zachariah just laughs, shaking his head at Sam like he’s being a silly little boy. Sam tries his very best not to be wound up by it, he knows that’s what the man wants.

“Very well. I believe congratulations are in order.”

Sam stares, his eyebrows raising of their own accord. That he didn’t expect... didn’t expect that at all.

“It would seem that this department is more interested in... theatrics, rather than any real dedication to the subject.”

Sam sighs. He’s not going to rise to the bait.

Zachariah waves a hand as if dismissing protests that Sam didn’t even give voice to. “Oh I’m sure they had their reasons. I’m willing to bet that certain underhanded influences held sway. His eyes shift briefly over to Ellen’s office, before turning his attention back to Sam. Sam clenches his jaw. 

“But we all know the corruption that’s really pulling the strings, don’t we?”

Sam almost laughs. Is he talking about goddamn Satan himself? Wow, this man has some pretty grand delusions. But no, no his eyes are flicking over to the screen. Gabriel. Of course he means Gabriel. How the hell the man thinks Gabriel could swing such a thing is beyond Sam. He may be persuasive, but for Christ’s sake, Ellen has a mind of her own and Gabriel didn’t have the first clue about the position before Sam mentioned it. He really does laugh at the thought. Ellen strung up like some marionette. Gabriel behind her, arms held high, making her dance to some ridiculous tune. He hopes Gabriel finishes dressing soon, because he really can’t wait to see his face when he hears some of this.

Zachariah’s eyes narrow briefly before the smile returns. There’s something about the coldness of that smile, the look in his eyes, that makes the laughter die on Sam’s lips. He presses something towards Sam.

“You may laugh Samuel. But do you know who shares your bed? Do you think you really know who he is?”

Sam hadn’t even noticed he was holding anything. Sighing, he takes the item. This should be good. Evidence that it’s not Luke that’s Lucifer himself? That in fact, it was Gabriel all along? Sam looks down. He frowns. _What? What is this?_

Zachariah laughs once more, the sound chilling Sam to his very bones. Sam doesn’t look up as he moves away, barely hears it when he gives his parting shot. “That’s what I thought.” 

Some half formed thought is trying to unravel itself in his mind. He doesn’t recognise the cover, the buxom blonde clad in racy red underwear, smiling seductively into the camera, the text proclaiming “Real Fantasies!” in bold, scarlet text. But the name, there’s something about the title. A spark. A memory. A post-it note stuck to his foot, that he peels off and sticks to his pin board beneath another note. _Look up height difference kink_. The post-it that went missing... That he assumed Dean had removed. But maybe... maybe he was wrong. 

His eyes scan the packaging, alighting on the text at the bottom. He stares at it. Surely it’s a common enough nickname. It can’t mean anything, can it? But coupled with the height thing...

There’s a sharp intake of breath. Sam looks up just in time to see Gabriel’s face fall, his expression suddenly becoming shuttered. Sam didn’t even hear him approach.

“Watch it.” There’s something wrong with Gabriel’s voice. It sounds... almost mechanical. Sam opens his mouth, but Gabriel’s eyes flare briefly, stopping Sam in his tracks. He swallows, head spinning as Gabriel’s expression becomes shuttered again. “Then we’ll talk.”

Sam just gapes as Gabriel spins on his heel, stalking towards the door. What the hell? He can’t begin to process this. He watches as Gabriel pauses in the doorway, spine held rigid. He turns. Relief floods Sam’s system. Whatever this is, they can talk it through... But Gabriel just looks at him, expression unreadable. 

“I’m not ashamed.” His voice is so low, Sam barely hears it.

Sam opens his mouth to speak again, but at the look Gabriel gives him, he shuts it with a snap. Then he watches, feeling helpless, as Gabriel turns and stalks away.

Heart hammering in his chest Sam looks down at the case in his hands, at the title emblazoned across the tantalising image of the scantily clad girl.

_Casa Erotica 13_

And the bottom, in clear capital letters, _Starring T.Rickster._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooooooooooooo finally Sam found out. As for why Zachariah didn't do this earlier... I honestly think he was pausing for dramatic effect, wishing to do as much damage as possible and losing the graduate place to Sam, that was the final straw. 
> 
> Fair warning we're entering the climax... no wait, we already did that a few times ;) I know I'm hilarious. Nope what I mean is we're heading into lots of drama and angst wholesale. So ah, you've got that to look forward to... Yup. See you soon.
> 
> Oh and just in case you're wondering, no we don't go around headbutting each other in greeting over here. Jeez Gabriel, seriously?


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *WARNING*: brief but slightly graphic mention of a past domestic assault (previous relationship)

SAM

Sam runs a hand over his face. _Shit_. Part of him thought that Gabriel would be here. Holed up in their room, sulking, with the covers thrown dramatically over his head. Or maybe slumped on the sofa devouring a tub of ice cream. Maybe just glaring at Sam as soon as he came in through the apartment door...

But he’s not here. There isn’t any sign that Gabriel’s been here since this morning. The bed’s been stripped, fresh sheets tucked slightly haphazardly into place, dishes drying in the rack, stacks of boxes still dotted around the place. It looks like Gabriel got halfway through unpacking some books, stacks of sci-fi thrillers and erotic romances piled up in precariously teetering towers dotted across the floor of Dean’s old room, one of Sam’s flannel shirts draped over the back of Gabriel’s easy chair. Dean wasn’t entirely correct in his assumption. Gabriel does wear clothes... just not many of them... and rarely his own. 

Sam slumps in the chair, he eases his phone out of his pocket, bringing up Gabriel on speed dial. He swears as he reaches Gabriel’s voicemail, yet again. He thinks of leaving another message, but he’s already left plenty. Either Gabriel’s phone has run out of charge or... Sam’s stomach sinks. Gabriel’s avoiding him.

 _Why? Fuck_. Sam curses himself again for not chasing after him. But there was something in the way Gabriel looked at him, something that made Sam hold back. Giving him some space had seemed like the best plan. Or maybe Sam’s just kidding himself. Maybe it wasn’t about Gabriel at all. He was thrown. Why didn’t... Why didn’t Gabriel tell him about all this? If he’s really not ashamed then... Sam swallows. _Christ_. Gabriel didn’t think... He wouldn’t actually think Sam would have a problem with it? Would he? But of course... That has to be it. The post-it going missing... God, the way he was acting that day, when he practically manhandled Sam out of the door. Sam had thought he was freaked out by the board, by all the sketches Sam made. It was the only thing that made sense at the time. Who the hell wouldn’t be freaked out by the sight of a board full of nude sketches of themselves? Except... well... Gabriel. 

_He_ wouldn’t. Sam rubs a hand over his face. Jesus. Why didn’t he see? But then he could hardly have figured out the truth. That Gabriel had taken one look at his board and seeing that name up there... Fuck, of course he freaked out.

He just wishes to hell that Gabriel had taken the chance to talk to him about it. They could have laughed at the messed up coincidence and just gone on with their lives. How the hell did he think Sam would react?

And now? Christ, if Sam hadn’t been so damn blindsided. But he should have... Fuck. He picks up his phone, hits dial, swears again as it goes straight to voicemail.

Head in his hands, he thinks furiously. Should he go out and search? Should he give Gabriel a little space to calm down? What would Gabriel want from him?

_Watch it... Then we’ll talk..._

Shit, really? But it’s the only thing that makes sense. Maybe Gabriel’s not returning his calls because he’s shown no indication of having actually seen the thing. Sam knows he doesn’t need to see it. That it doesn’t matter at all. But Gabriel... maybe he needs that reassurance that Sam’s really ok with it. All of it.

Sighing, he gets up from the chair and pads through to the main living area where he dumped his things, grabbing his rucksack and bringing it through to their room. He makes himself comfortable on the bed, pulling out his laptop and the DVD case. He could watch this from the comfort of the sofa, on their wide screen tv, but some habits die hard. The thought of Dean coming in at any point and seeing Gabriel on the screen... Yeah, much as it’s highly unlikely, Sam still hasn’t settled into the idea that his big brother isn’t going to come barging in unannounced at the most inopportune of moments anymore.

Sliding the disc in, Sam holds his breath.

~~~

GABRIEL

Gabriel slams the door behind him and leans against it, resting his head back against the cold hard surface. He wants to slump to the ground. Maybe cry. Definitely cry. Curl into a ball and just weep until he can’t cry any more. But fuck. No. He can’t. No time. He swallows and pushes off the wall, striding through to his room with purpose. He almost weeps again. There’s barely anything left in here. Well, fuck it, he’ll just have to make do. He opens his cupboard, rummaging around the meagre remains and pulling out a small hold-all. It’s worn and one of the straps looks like it’s one hot minute away from giving up the ghost, but it’s all he’s got. With shaking hands, he starts stuffing things in haphazardly.

In hindsight... In hindsight, he should have seen this coming... It was so goddamn obvious. Why the... Why the...

“ _FUCK!!_ ” he screams into the empty room, the sound reverberating off the bare walls. He halts his movements. Takes in a deep breath, lets out a retched sob.

Great, just great. He’s crying now. Fucking tears streaming down his face, nose already getting kinda runny. He swipes a hand angrily over his face. How could he have been so stupid? Of course it would be Zachariah. Of course. Who else? Cassie would never spill. Ellen. Even Luke. Damn it, but despite all that bribery and crap in the cabin, Gabriel gets the feeling he never would have. But ol Zachy? Hoo boy. The only question is, why the hells did he wait so long?

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” He leans his head against the cupboard door, taking in a ragged breath.

It matters little. The result would have been the same. If Gabriel had bitten the bullet, done as Cassie said... Hells, as if that would have been any different. It’s not like he hasn’t tried that before. He laughs, the sound bitter and hoarse. Hoo boy has he tried that strategy before. It always turned out the same. Sure there were all kinds of colorful variations, some of them he’d sooner forget than others... But at the end of the day Gabriel always ended up in the same place. With his heart broken and future a bleak lonely void. 

But he can’t take that. Not this time. Not from Sam. If he leaves now he won’t have that memory seared into his brain. If he leaves now, all that they have won’t be tainted by that one look. All they had. Had. Past tense.

He sinks to his knees, another sob escaping him even as he desperately tries to hold it back. He doesn’t want to leave. Doing so will tear him apart. But staying? That would be worse. Far worse.

He stares down at his hands. The cuff. His shaking fingers have sought it out of their own accord. He rolls back the sleeve, turns his wrist over. S.W.. Those two little initials. So small and yet... He runs a finger over the letters, feeling their outline for the last time. Then, heart in his throat, hands shaking so much he fumbles it twice, he undoes the clasp.

~~~

SAM

The menu screen looks pretty much the same as the DVD cover. No sign of Gabriel yet. He selects ‘play feature’. The usual disclaimers referencing age and consent appear on the screen and some absolutely attrociously cheesy music starts up. Sam makes a face. The music continues as the opening shot appears on screen, a black lace panty clad behind and long legs stretching up from the bed. Transparent stillettos. Sam sighs. These movies, they’re all the same. While Dean could watch them for hours on end, he just finds them kind of... tacky. The internal monologue... The sexy minx sprawl. The girl’s pretty, sure, but not really particularly striking or memorable. There’s a knock on the door. A voice sounds behind it. Male, with a terrible accent. Is that supposed to be French? Eastern European? He really can’t-

All thoughts leave his mind as the door opens. He hits pause. Stares. His body starts to shake, laughter bubbling up from the pit of his belly, despite the worry, despite everything. Because... Christ. It’s him. Unmistakably him. Despite being several years younger, a little thinner in the face, with hair slicked back and... and the most utterly ridiculous porn tash Sam has ever seen. He tries to unpause the video but his hand’s still shaking. He lets it out. Some of the worry washing away with the laughter. 

_Oh Gabe. This is what you were so afraid of?_ The laughter finally disappating Sam stares at the screen. The determined stance, the serious look on his face.... How he could actually keep a straight face standing there like that... The waiter’s uniform, open at the neck all the way down to the centre of his chest. Is that....? Is that a sperm necklace? The door number? Christ, Sam almost didn’t notice. 69? Little on the nose there. Sam smiles and shakes his head. He reaches forward again. But he doesn’t unpause the video, instead he finds himself reaching for the screen, fingertips brushing gently down the image of Gabriel’s face. Why would Gabriel think... Why would he think Sam would find this... What? Distasteful? Wrong? That’s ridiculous. It may be cheesy as all hell, but never wrong. Biting his lip, Sam taps his keyboard, unfreezing the image at last. 

He needs to see this through. Then he can tell Gabriel just what an idiot he’s been. Because there’s nothing here. Nothing at all, that could make Sam love Gabriel any less.

_I’ve got the Kielbasa you ordered._

Sam’s lips twitch.

_Ooh Polish?_

_Hungarian._

Except maybe... that accent. Sam barks out a loud laugh as Gabriel throws the serving dish on the the mantle and surges forward, making somewhat lustful noises as his arms wrap around his co-star, as their lips meet in what can only be termed... a thorough... ravishing.

~~~

GABRIEL 

Gabriel stares at his reflection, at the skin that’s somehow managing to be both blotchy and ghostly pale at the same time. Red eyes. Red nose. Hair... The less said about his hair the better. Zombie. He definitely looks like a zombie. He kinda feels like one too. Like his insides have been scooped out. All cried out. Empty. And yet raw at the same time. He throws some water on his face. That did not help. Did not help at all. He sighs heavily, reaching for the towel and scrubbing it roughly over his face. 

It’s time to go.

Letting the damp towel drop to the floor, he strides through to the main room, ignoring the detrious of his life scattered around. Some in boxes, most strewn across the floor. He picks up his winter coat. Pauses. No. No reminders. He can’t... he just can’t. Not right now. Draping it carefully over the counter, he steps over to the hooks by the door, selecting his thin cargo jacket and pulling it on. He’s going to freeze, but it doesn’t matter. He walks back over to the counter, reaching down to pull his bag up over one shoulder. He pauses again, eyes fixed on his cellphone, switched off and lying face down on the counter. 

It’s filled with memories. Images of their life together. No. In time he’ll want to remember, but now... Now it’s too raw. Besides... he’s not entirely sure he can trust himself. He steps away, heading with purpose to the front door. He doesn’t glance back. He can’t. Because if he does... He won’t have the strength. He won’t have the strength to walk away.

~~~

SAM

Sam scrubs a hand over his face. Well that was... That was a little more... not exactly _hardcore_ , but definitely a lot more explicit than he was expecting from the somewhat tame opening scene. As it turned out, the buxom blonde on the cover, and in that inital scene, was not in fact the star of the show. No, that was most definitely a certain, slight, energetic,... _flexible_... (Christ, Sam’s only seen the tip of the iceberg with that one)... enthusiastic, master of fantasies. What did it say on the box again? Sam closes the lid on the scrolling credits and horrendous porno music and picks up the DVD case. _Real fantasies_. Well the movie certainly... explored that theme. 

The whole movie centred around the unnamed... Bellhop? Servicer? Sam doesn’t even know how to describe his apparent role in this so called hotel. But in each scene, the “Hungarian” staff member moved on to another room. To service the somewhat varied and... well... interesting... needs of the hotel’s many and equally varied clientelle. Not just women. But men also. Sometimes an individual. Sometimes couples. And in one particularly erotic scene near the climax... (Sam rubs a hand over his face again)... near the _end_ of the movie... a whole birthday party. 

The accents (it became rapidly apparent that the “Hungarian” was merely a persona)... the costumes... The french maid outfit was particularly... Sam swallows. He might just have a kink. (Damn it, what is it about Gabriel that brings out a kinky side he had no clue was a part of him?) And all of it, all with that same ridiculous porn tash. By the end of the movie, Sam had started to wonder if it was actually real. Did Gabriel really go a far as to grow that thing? 

Sam rubs the back of his neck. It was all rather... Sam swallows again. While some of it wasn’t exactly to his taste, he wasn’t expecting to be quite so... _aroused_ by it all.

Much as the bad music, cheesy script and yes, fair dose of overacting, was a little... tacky. It was also... The sex scenes were pretty explicit. Sensual at times, frantically erotic at others. Sam was a little taken aback by the unexpected full frontals. Most of the “customers” were a little too waxed, primped and tanned, typical porn faire. But Gabriel... It would seem that his insistance on keeping it au naturel down there isn’t exactly a new thing. He looked... he looked good. Really good. Despite the weird slicked back hair and ludicrous tash. 

And some of the more drawn out, visual scenes... He’s not entirely sure they were even simulated. They appeared far too real for that. There was one scene in particular, where Gabriel was... or at least his character was... making love to a woman beneath him... while her partner made love to him from above...

It’s all starting to make sense. He thinks he understands now, at least a little, why Gabriel tried to hide this from him. Why he wasn’t sure what Sam’s reaction would be. But... Doesn’t he know? Sam turns the case over in his hands. How could Gabriel think that Sam could ever stop-

Sam stares down at the name. Right there at the bottom. After all the porn actor personas. The director. Wow. That, he did not expect... Except... given his choice of partners... maybe it’s not so far fetched after all.

_Directed by Chuck Shurley._

Sam draws in a breath. It’s all starting to fall into place. He drops the box on the bedspread and picks up his cell, hitting speed dial once more. Hoping, against hope, that it won’t go straight to voice mail this time.

~~~

GABRIEL

It’s bitterly cold. Not the fresh cold of a clear winter day, but a damp cold, one that seems to seep through his jacket and settle deep within his bones. He shivers, looks up at the sky. It’s overcast, thick layers of charcoal grey cloud blocking out any sign of the sun. There’s still a few hours of daylight left, but the night feels like it’s pressing in already. Despite the biting chill, he’s pretty sure it’s going to rain rather than snow. Soon by the looks of it. Hopefully, hopefully he’ll be long gone before then. He hunches in on himself. Why didn’t he take the coat? Just to travel in. Fuck. That was stupid. Really damned stupid. He may not feel much, except the deep ache inside his chest, but he sure as all hells can feel the cold. Except his feet. He can’t exactly feel his toes anymore. It’ll serve him right if he ends up losing half of them to frostbite.

He unwraps his arms from about his middle, just long enough to draw back his sleeve and glance at his wrist watch. Just a few minutes more. He lets the sleeve fall back into place, greatful for once that his arms are as short as the rest of him, the sleeves coming way down over his hands. He draws his fingers further inside the fabric and wraps his arms back around his own shivering form. Just a few minutes more and then he’s in the wind.

His heart clenches, a cold pain spreading outwards from the center of his chest. He can’t stay, he can’t. No matter how much he wants to. Every time he thinks of turning around, of heading to their apartment... Sam’s apartment... he forces himself to remember.

_...No one wants sloppy seconds Gabriel... or is that thirds, fourths... I lost count..._

_...Do you have any idea how dirty you make me feel? I can’t even look at you..._

_...Why would you keep this from me? I always wanted a threesome... What do you mean no?..._

_...It’s not like you haven’t done it before. What’s the problem?..._

_...Dirty...filthy...whore..._

_...Seeing you with someone else would turn me on. Why won’t you just..._

_...It’s a lot Gabriel... You’re a lot... How can you ask this of me..._

He never saw it coming. Too swift for him to duck, to block. So out of left field. Of all the people he thought...

_...A fist connects with his face, pain searing through his cheekbone, flaring through his nerve endings as his head snaps backwards..._

He shudders, draws his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. It still hurts sometimes. When it’s cold. Like this. It’s ok. It helps him remember. Helps him remember why he can’t stay.

Sam would never...

No. Gabriel thinks he knows Sam well enough. He wouldn’t. Not that. Maybe he wouldn’t even say a word, but Gabriel would know. Sam’s an open book. It would be written across his face. Every time he looked at Gabriel it would be different. They can’t go back. Can’t go back to what they were.

But...

His heart clenches; he lets out a wretched sob. Fuck. He thought he was done with the tears. But... Wait, that’s not tears. Correction. Not just tears. He tilts his head backwards. Great. That’s just great. It’s light for now but... But not for long. A large drop lands just short of his eye. He blinks furiously to clear it. 

Fuck. Why? Hasn’t he suffered enough? The skies open. Rain suddenly pelting down on him, quickly plastering his hair to his skull, soaking straight through the thin material of his cargo jacket. Apparently not.

“ _COME ON!_ ” he screams into the fridged air. 

No one answers. There’s no one here, but him. The lonely crazy person at the bus stop, screaming into the storm... like it’ll do him any good. He shakes his head, only succeeding in sending sopping wet strands across his forehead, where they promptly stick. But something catches his eye. He blinks into the pouring rain. Lights. Finally. Fucking finally. At least something’s going right. He climbs to his feet as the bus approaches. It stops in front of him, doors opening. Gabriel takes one last look into the sky, blinking back the rain that tries to blind him.

“Are you getting on or not?”

Gabriel hesitates. 

Then swallowing down the lump in his throat, he bends down and picks up his bag.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Runs and hides* 
> 
> Er please don't hate me... There is an eventual happy ending to this I promise.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello Dean...

PRESENT DAY

DEAN

Dean’s pretty good in a crisis. When everything goes to hell, when everything's in chaos and everyone’s losing their heads, he knuckles down, does what has to be done. It’s like a cold calm comes over him. He shuts out the fear, doesn’t get jittery with adrenaline. He uses it. Maybe it’s in his blood. Maybe it was all that training Dad put him through so he could be of some use. Whatever it is, he’s good. Damn good. And maybe he’s made a difference. On occasion. He’s been useful. But this time... Was it enough?

It’s the afterwards. That, he struggles with. The sitting around. The waiting. All that pain and suffering. And there isn’t a damned thing he can do about it. He waits. He hovers. He tries to be useful. But what the hell’s another cup of goddamn coffee going to do? Cas mutters his thanks, brushes fingertips over his hand. Like just being here is somehow enough. So of course he stays. Even if he feels like he’s suffocating...

He waits. He watches his brother slowly unravel. Sam doesn’t have any hope. He’s been here before. Dean knows. Hell does he know. He gets it. But God does he wish he could change it, because he can’t watch that. Can’t watch it happen again. If Gabriel doesn’t... Will Sam be lost forever?

And then it comes. Luke. Strung out on grief. He’s grieving already. Dean can see it in his eyes. He recognises that look. That rage. For one brief moment he feels goddamned pissed. Cas doesn’t need this and Sam sure as hell doesn’t. But then he frickin gets it. He’s been there.

For once, for this moment, maybe he can be of some use.

The first breath of fresh air invigorates him. He scans his surroundings, analysing. He may have left the family business to wither and die when Dad passed, but he was good at this. Think like your target. If he was in Luke’s place, if it was Sam in there instead of Gabriel?... He draws in a shaking breath, heart clenching painfully. That’s not helpful. It’s a distraction. He can’t think about how close it came to _being_ Sam in there. If Gabriel hadn’t... Fuck. No. He pushes the emotion down, until it’s nothing more than a dull background ache. There’ll be time enough to feel it later. To lose himself at the bottom of a bottle. To worry about Gabriel too. Because shit, that’s some fucked up crap he can’t deal with right now. Right now, Cas needs him.

His eyes alight on the station. Obvious choice. He strides forward with purpose, steeling himself. This isn’t going to be pretty.

~~~

“Come on man, don’t do this.” His eyes flick from Luke’s face to the deputy trying to restrain him. “That won’t be necessary,” he looks pointedly back at Luke, “will it?”

Luke’s jaw clenches, anger flares up briefly, but something else too. Fear? The last thing he wants is to be in those restraints, to be locked up. Cas told Dean about the last time. 

“He has to pay.”

“He will. But you go down that road and there aint no coming back from it.”

Luke lets out a bitter laugh, the sound cold and harsh. “You think I care?”

“I think when you calm the hell down you will.”

Luke chuckles before leaning towards Dean, narrowing his eyes.. “You don’t know the first thing about me... _brother fucker_.”

He lunges forward, laughing once more as Dean flinches with the movement. The deputy goes for his cuffs again, but Dean shakes his head and holds out a hand. _Wait_. He’s not sure why this guy is trusting his instincts, but he’s sure as hell glad he’s listening. Luke’s enough of a problem now, try to cuff him and they’ll have a whole other level of shit to deal with. 

Dean takes in a breath. It’s a risky move, but if those brotherly instincts got Luke here, then maybe they can get him to back off.

“You know what Luke, you may have given up on one of your brothers, Gabriel may be as good as dead to you, but why the hell would you give up on Cas too?”

Luke stares at him, anger flashing in his eyes. But it’s working. Dean can see that edge of self doubt. He just needs to push a little harder. 

“Your brother needs you man! He’s scared and alone and he needs his big brother by his side. He needs him to stand strong and tell him it’s all gonna be ok, even if you think it’s a goddamn lie. Because that’s just what you do!”

Dean takes in a ragged breath, he’s right up in Luke’s personal space. He barely remembers how he got there. He can hear Luke’s breaths, sounding just as harsh as his own. 

They stand there like that for a moment, Luke’s expression unreadable. There’s more than one way this could go down. Has he done enough? Luke’s eyes drift over his shoulder, lips twitching upwards. Shit, maybe not. Dean braces himself. This could get physical afterall. But with the laughter there’s no more threat. Luke isn’t coiled tight like a spring anymore. No. It’s far worse than that.

“Dean, Dean, Dean. Looks like you forgot to practice what you preach.”

Dean frowns, he doesn’t want to take his eyes off Luke, not for a moment, but there’s something a damn sight unsettling about his tone.

“Hmm looks like someone’s little brother’s not getting enough of those warm and fuzzies.”

Dean’s head whips around. 

“Oh crap,” the deputy remarks, fumbling for his radio as he keeps one restraining hand on Luke.

That does not cover it, does not cover it at all. Dean’s heart is in his throat as he stands transfixed, watching as the fuzzy image of his brother approaches the bars. How the hell? His mind reels. But of course they were too damn distracted, pratically the whole department out trying to sort this shit out. And when his brother’s mind is set to something, when he’s frickin determined enough... Shit. That’s too close, too damn close. He doesn’t wait for permission, doesn’t listen to the commotion around him or the goddamn laughter that follows in his wake. His brother needs him. Nothing else matters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because we're reaching the climax so to speak, I'll be switching back and forth between the past and present. I shall endevour not to lose any more of my headers in the transfer. Apologies for that last one which caused confusion. Basically it will be one chapter present, followed by one past and then back again. Except the epilogue. I'll just go and post the past chapter because that was one hell of a nasty cliffhanger I left you on...


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam calls on Cas to help search for Gabriel

FOUR MONTHS EARLIER

_Gabriel. Listen to me. I love you ok. I love you so goddamn much. You’ve got to know that. Nothing’s changed. Do you hear me? Fuck... Why won’t you... Pick up. Please. I’m worried about you..._

__

_Gabriel... Gabe... You need to pick up. Call me. Come over.... Just... I’m at home... Are you... are you even getting these messages?..._

__

_I don’t know what... I don’t know what to do. Where are you?... Just... I’m coming to find you. I love you Gabe... Please..._

~~~

SAM

Goddamn it. Sam drops his phone on the bedspread and climbs to his feet. He runs his hands through his hair. He can’t just sit around and do nothing. Where would Gabriel go? His old apartment? The park? No surely not, it’s gloomy as all hell out there. Looks like it’s going to rain. Probably better start with the apartment. Taking in a deep breath, he grabs his cell and dials up Cas as he strides through to the main room, pulling on his coat hurriedly and collecting his keys from the counter. _Shit, come on Cas, pick up_. He doesn’t have keys for Gabriel’s apartment. It didn’t seem necessary. Damn it, he’ll go anyway, shout his lungs out from the sidewalk if he has to. Gabriel will probably appreciate the sentiment, even if his neighbors won’t. He wonders almost hysterically if he should grab his sound system, hoist it onto his shoulder like it’s a boom box-

_Hello Sam._

Sam draws in a deep breath. “Cas...” He hesitates. How the hell does he approach this? Does Cas even know? “Uh... Have you, have you seen Gabriel?” Sam winces to himself. They don’t have time to dance around this.

_No. Sam, has something happened?_

Shit, it seems that Cas can read him just as well as Gabriel can, the note of worry clear in his voice.

“Listen Cas. Gabriel’s missing. He didn’t come home. He won’t... he won’t pick up his phone. I’m worried...” Sam draws in a sharp breath. He makes a decision. Screw it. He’ll deal with the consequences later if he has to. “Zachariah... I think he was trying to screw with us. He gave me something... Casa... Casa Erotica...”

There’s silence on the other end, Sam’s already racing heart beat ratchets up a notch or two. He opens up his mouth to speak, but Cas’ low voice comes over the other end, pausing him in his tracks.

_What did you do?_

There’s a steely, dangerous edge to it. Sam swallows.

“Nothing Cas... He wouldn’t... He told me to watch it and...” Sam runs a hand back through his hair as he paces.

 _And..._

Sam haults, heart clenching painfully. He feels the panic rising in his chest. The walls trying to close in on him. He takes a shaking breath. 

“I love him Cas! None of it matters. Christ... I tried to tell him, but he won’t pick up, he’s not answering any of my messages and I don’t have a key to his apartment and-”

_Stay where you are. I’m coming to you._

The line goes dead. Sam stares at his phone a moment, then he starts to pace again.

~~~

Cas is silent, he stares straight ahead, the only sound the faint squeak of the windshield wipers as they battle the elements outside. Is Gabriel out there in this? God, Sam hopes not. He looks out the window, watching, searching the figures bustling past, trying to get out of the rain. Why is this happening? If only Gabriel had... Sam turns to face Cas again, takes in the tight worried lines about his eyes. 

“Why didn’t he tell me?” 

The question hangs between them. Sam didn’t mean to utter it, but he couldn’t keep it back. He has to know. Cas’ piercing blue gaze flicks over to him for an instant before he returns his attention to the road. It takes so long for him to reply that Sam almost startles at the low gravely cadence of his voice.

“There was a time when he told. The responses of those he chose to share it with... were not exactly... favorable.”

Sam stares out the window, watches the windscreen wipers sweep back and forth. _Not favorable_... What does that mean? Sam finds his mind reeling, thinking through the possibilities. 

Cas sighs heavily. “Gabriel has not always chosen his partners wisely.” He pauses and purses his lips. “The last time... I received a call from the hospital.”

Sam draws in a sharp breath. “Someone... Christ Cas, I had no idea. What the hell?” He rubs a hand over his face.

Cas nods his head a fraction, eyes still fixed on the road. “He was not prepared for... I believe he did not see who he was truly with. I tried to warn him, to get him to see... but he wouldn’t listen.”

“What... what happened?”

“He fought back. His partner... perhaps he realised what he had done. He fled.”

“Did they... did they catch him?”

Cas tilts his head to the side, the smallest of smiles gracing his lips.

“He did not make it far. Sheriff Hanscum tracked him down in a hospital not far over state lines.” Cas glances over at him, raising one eyebrow before returning his attention to the road. “It would seem that he required emergency surgery to retrieve a certain part of his anatomy from where it did not belong.”

Despite the fear still gripping hold of him, Sam lets out a small snort of laughter.

“Good.”

“Indeed.” Cas pulls over. Sam scans the building. There’s no light on in Gabriel’s front room, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. “Sam...”

Sam turns to face Cas. He’s desperate to get out there, find Gabriel, but he stays where he is. He needs to hear this. All of it.

“It was difficult for him to trust anyone after that. I do not think he intended to, but it is my belief that he... that he perhaps sobotaged a number of his relationships.” Cas pauses and tilts his head to the side, regarding Sam with an intensity of gaze that’s difficult to meet, but just as impossible to look away from. “And then he met you.”

Sam sucks in a breath, heart hammering in his chest.

“Sam, you must not blame him for not sharing this with you.”

“I don’t.” Sam purses his lips and looks away, eyes drawn to Gabriel’s window. “I just wish that... I wish he could have trusted me. I would never hurt him. He knows that... doesn’t he?” 

“He knows.” Cas sighs. “I do not believe that was the problem. But it’s not for me to say. I think it would be best if I let him tell you how he feels. I can only guess at what he is thinking.”

Sam nods his head. That makes sense. Eyes fixed on Gabriel’s window, heart beating out a staccatto beat against his ribcage, Sam opens the door and climbs out.

~~~

Sam stares at the cuff in his hands. His heart sinks to his feet, something twisting painfully in the pit of his stomach. Cas is speaking, but he can’t hear him through the ringing in his ears.

“...Sam... must go... cannot have gone far...”

“Sam...” Cas’ hands are on his shoulders, blue eyes regarding him with concern, but also determination. “I do not know what is going on in your mind, but you cannot go there. We need to find him.”

Tears swim in Sam’s eyes, his vision blurring as he looks back down at the cuff, fingers running absently over his own initials.

“He’s left...” Sam can’t utter the last word, but it echos through his mind anyway. _Me. He’s left me._

_...You know I wouldn’t just leave you like that..._

Gabriel’s words. From after the exhibition. Not so long ago, though they’ve been through so much since. Sam thought... He had thought it made them stronger. Not... 

He left. Just like that. 

“Sam you have to listen to me.” Sam glances up. His vision is so blurred that he can barely see Cas’ expression, but there’s something in the tone of his voice that makes Sam stand up straighter, that makes him listen. “Remember what I told you. Gabriel loves you. He is not thinking clearly. He is... afraid.”

Sam shakes his head. He wants to believe that but... He swallows down the despair that’s threatening to suffocate him. It doesn’t matter. Either way. Maybe it is over. But regardless, he can’t just let Gabriel walk out into the cold like this. It’s the middle of winter, there’s a rain storm pouring down and Gabriel’s left his goddamn coat and cellphone. He isn’t safe. And no matter how much Sam’s heart is breaking, no matter how betrayed he feels, he can’t leave Gabriel out there all alone. Cas is right. They need to find him. Now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah so... Haven't exactly resolved that... ah there cliffhanger... yet. Don't worry I won't leave you hanging. I'll update again tomorrow.


	16. Chapter 16

PRESENT DAY

SAM

The figure is hunched over. But not in fear, not in anguish, nor in pain. Sam doesn’t get the impression that any of these emotions apply. If he had to describe the posture of the man in front of him, he would mostly likely say apathatic... bored... indifferent. 

Indifferent. He’s picking at something on his hands. As Sam draws nearer he recognises what it is. Russet flecks. Just like those on his own hands. Blood. Gabriel’s blood. His hands are drenched in it... 

A flash of memory... _shaking hands tearing away red soaked fabric, clamping down on the open wound. He presses down hard, even as a strangled cry is torn from Gabriel’s lips, but he can’t stop it, the blood seeps between his fingers, soaking through torn fabric in seconds. His hands are drenched with it..._

Sam’s jaw clenches, every muscle in his body taut with rage. Those hands did not attempt to stem the flow of blood. Those hands caused it. 

A small laugh escapes from between thin lips. They stretch into a smirk, a cold mockery of the playful expression that often adorns Gabriel’s face. As Sam takes another step towards the bars, he finally looks up, eyes sparkling with amusement. 

“Is he gone? Was it quick? Or,” he lets out a small laugh, “did he suffer? Please tell me it was the latter, because honestly I’m a little bored and I could do with something to brighten my day.”

Sam narrows his eyes, taking in a deep breath, willing his voice to stay steady. “Sorry to break it to you, but he’s alive. You failed.”

The man tilts his head to the side, eyes running up and down Sam’s body. He rises to his feet slowly, the air of amusement never leaving his face. “Semantics. I was going for you, so in a way... perhaps you’re correct. But... the look on your face... I’d say it was worth it.”

Sam surges forward, grabbing hold of the bars that separate them. The cold metal digs into the palms of his hands, knuckles turning white. The walls are trying to close in, his heart hammering hard against his ribcage, but he pushes it all down. When he speaks he barely recognises his own voice. “You better pray to your God that they never let you out of here. Because if they do...” He draws in a breath, eyes fixed on the man who tried to take everything from him, who may have succeeded yet. “I will hunt you down. No matter how far you run, I will fucking find you. You hear me? And when I’m done with you, you better believe me when I say that you’ll be begging me to kill you. But I promise you one thing, I won’t make it goddamn quick.”

The man’s lips twitch upwards, that same snide mockery of a smile sliding easily into place. He steps forward, closing the distance between them, leaning towards the bars, close enough that Sam can feel the heat of his breath. “I really got him good didn’t I? How long does he have? A day? Two? Or is he going to be drooling into his pudding cup for the rest of his wretched life?”

Sam doesn’t think; he reacts. Before he can begin to process what he’s doing, his fingers are closing around the flesh beneath his palm, tightening around the throat of the man who ripped his life apart.

~~~

DEAN

Too late. Christ, he’s too damn late. Dean barely has a chance to take in the situation, let alone shout out a warning. Sam’s fingers are closing around the prisoner’s throat, rage overtaking him. But that’s not the problem. The problem is, he’s left himself wide open. Before Sam can tighten his grip, a hand darts between the bars, grabs on to his clothing and yanks him forward with such speed and force, that Sam doesn’t have a hope in hell of bracing himself. His head slams into the bars. His fingers slip from their intended target, his body crumpling towards the floor. But the figure is fast, too damn fast, and hell of a lot stronger than he looks. Dean rushes forwards, but he halts apruptly, raising his hands in the air as an arm tightens about his brother’s neck.

A cold chuckle issues from between twisted lips. “Would you look at this, I got myself a two-fer. And here was me thinking the day was a washout.”

“You hurt my brother and I’ll-”

“You’ll what? Oh I’ve heard it all today. Thought you could stop my good work? Thought you could prevent this? Save your brother and his little whore? But you weren’t quick enough then. What makes you think you’re quick enough now?”

Dean draws in a deep breath. He makes the calculations. He can make it. Can’t he? He freezes. Fear and dread seeping through his veins. He can’t lose Sammy. He’s already lost too much. Not his baby brother. 

But that fear, that pause, gives him the time he needs, because in that instant it dawns on him. He doesn’t have to play the hero. That won’t win him this battle. The cavalry are a few steps behind him. Playing the hero might just get his brother killed. No. This time, he needs to do what he does best. This time he needs to play the asshole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so um yeah...


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Cas desperately search for Gabriel. Will they find him?

FOUR MONTHS EARLIER

SAM 

Sam takes the steps two at a time, Cas close on heels. As they reach the bottom of the first flight, a door cracks ajar, a familiar face apearing in the doorway, brow furrowed with worry. Sam haults. Maybe she saw something. Cas edges past him, hands already making rapid movements as he approaches her. Somehow it’s not surprising, not surprising at all that Cas would know sign language and that he’s clearly more profficient at it than Gabriel. Sam watches anxiously from the stairwell. Their conversation is rapid and fluid. Even if he had any grasp of the language at all, he thinks it unlikely that he would be able to follow. He watches their expressions carefully, his heartbeat ramping up again as he takes in the worry lines etched across Cas’ forehead, as he takes in Bonnie’s wide, fearful eyes. 

The whole exchange perhaps lasts a minute or less, but from the outside it feels like an eternity. Finally, finally, with one last gesture, Cas turns away, eyes fixed on Sam as he makes his way over to the stairwell. They fall into step as they descend the last flight of stairs

“He would not tell her where he was going, but Bonnie believes that he intended to leave town. She said he was carrying a small holdall, that he was frantic, upset...” Cas pauses, purses his lips, “But that he was determined.”

Sam’s heart sinks. He opens his mouth to ask, but Cas answers his question before he can utter it.

“A little over an hour ago. He can’t have gotten far.”

Fear grips hold of him. An hour. It doesn’t seem like long, but without knowing where he was headed... they could set off in the wrong direction, search for long miles while he slips further and further away. Did he intend to travel by bus or did he hitch a ride? The former would be easier, they could find out the bus schedule, maybe stand a chance of tracking him down. The latter? He could be anywhere by now. Sam grabs his cell from his pocket, hastily bringing up the search engine and cursing loudly when they push out into the rain. It’s gotten heavier and a broken, water logged phone will do him little good. He pockets it and dashes across the road, paying little attention to the honking horns and angry shouts from vehicles that barely miss him.

His hair is in his face. He pushes it back as he slips the phone from his pocket. Cas climbs in beside him, silent. He doesn’t start the engine straight away. Sam’s head whips up. He shoots Cas a pointed look. They can’t afford to hang around.

“We will find him.” Cas levels his intense blue gaze at Sam, reaching an arm across and grasping hold of Sam’s shoulder, squeezing tightly. 

Any sarcastic retort he may have uttered dies on his lips under the sincerity of that gaze. He swallows down the sudden lump in his throat, feeling his eyes begin to sting again. He gives a small nod before returning his gaze to his phone, pulling up bus schedules as Cas starts the engine. 

“I think it likely that he would head to the main bus terminal in New Bern where he will have a significantly greater choice of destinations.”

Sam nods his head. That makes sense. He pulls up the timetable for that particular route. He bites his lip.

“It already left. No. Shit. There have been two. But the first. Maybe he missed it. It depends how fast he was walking.”

Cas lets out a long breath, the smallest of smiles playing across his lips. “We shall have to hope that his diminutive stature will work in our favor.”

Sam stares at him for a moment, mouth ajar, then he lets out a strangled, choked off snort. It sounds ridiculous. Gabriel would never let him hear the end of it. Even Cas’ lips twitch upwards at the sound, but there’s something in it that loosens the tension that’s been holding his muscles taut. He eases back in his seat as Cas pulls out into the slow moving traffic, eyes back to scanning the streets as they pass by. There’s hope. He has to believe that. 

~~~

He almost misses it. Despite his desperate, frantic search, his eyes pass easily over the hunched figure. There aren’t many homeless in this town, but inevitably there are some. It’s just another rough sleeper. Seeing the figure drenched and shivering, makes something in his chest clench, but he knows there’s little he can do right now. They need to find-

“Stop the car!” 

He motions frantically to Cas, who regards him with wide eyes, before indicating, easing off the peddle and starting to pull over. Sam cranes his neck. Shit. He doesn’t wait for Cas to come to a complete stop. He flings the door open and hits the ground running, steadying himself as he almost stumbles and falls. The wind is whipping his hair into his face, the rain running down the back of his winter coat. He doesn’t care, doesn’t pause, he just runs. 

His breath is heaving in and out of his lungs. He slows his pace. Part of him is afraid the figure will flee if he approaches too fast. A few feet away, the bent head rises, wild golden eyes regarding him from a face that’s far too pale. Sam halts in his tracks, heart racing, mind spinning. His eyes flick over to the bag. He was leaving. That much is clear. So why is he still here? Did the bus fail to turn up? Is that why? Unbidden something dark twists in the pit of his belly, fear disappating as anger starts to seep in. He left. No note, nothing. He just left.

“S-sam...”

Sam clenches his jaw, eyes drawn back to the hunched and shivering figure. His heart aches. There’s nothing he wants more in the world than to close the distance between them, to wrap his arms around the man he loves. But something holds him back. Gabriel told him that they would talk, but he never gave Sam the chance. He gave up on them. He walked away.

Gabriel climbs shakily to his feet. He takes a step forward and he freezes. His head dips, a deep sadness passing over his features.

Sam’s heart clenches at the sight, but at the same time a profound fury starts to take hold.

“Why did you leave?” His voice does not sound like his own. Just like Gabriel’s, it sounds cold, mechanical.

Gabriel draws his lower lip into his mouth, it’s tinged blue and trembling. He wraps his arms around his body.

“I...”

His lack of ability to speak only makes Sam angrier. He feels the urge to spin on his heel and walk away, but he holds steady. He won’t walk away from this even if Gabriel wants that of him.

“You didn’t say goodbye. You didn’t give me a chance to... You left, you goddamn left. You said that you would never leave just like that and you did it anyway. Do I really matter so little to you?!” 

His voice rises as he talks, every part of the hurt and pain working it’s way out into the open air.

Gabriel flinches and then he draws in a ragged breath, arms unfolding, hands curling into fists by his side. He steps forward, golden eyes flaring as he spits out his reply. 

“Because that’s what I do! That’s all I’m good at. I fucking run.” He draws in another breath through his nose, then his expression shifts, face falling, eyes darting away from Sam. “I ran. But then I couldn’t... I couldn’t even do that right. I couldn’t leave. But I sure as hell couldn’t come back. So here I am...”

He flings his arms out dramatically, chuckling and throwing his head back, letting the rain fall across his features.

“Why? Why couldn’t you come back? Why the hell did you leave in the first place? I don’t get it, I really don’t. I thought that we meant more than that. I thought that-”

“I couldn’t stand to see you look at me like that!” Gabriel snaps, eyes flaring with anger again as he points a finger in Sam’s direction. “I couldn’t take that. Not from you.”

Sam feels tears sting at the corner of his eyes, something unpleasant clenching deep inside him. The anger, the fear, the hurt twisting together so he can barely distinguish one from the next. 

“Look at you like what?” He yells, voice coming out sounding all ragged and raw. “Like you’re the most incredible person I’ve ever met? Like I’ve never seen anyone so goddamn beautiful and ridiculous at the same time? Like I want to damn well rip your clothes off at a moment’s notice and make love to you no matter where the hell we are?”

Gabriel’s looking at him with wide eyes, blinking back raindrops, or tears, Sam’s not sure which. Sam takes a step closer, voice lowering, all the raw edges smoothing out until all that’s left it the depths of this feeling. 

“Like every time I look at you I fall in love with you a little more...”

Between one breath and the next, the distance between them vanishes. Gabriel is in his arms, reaching up as he bends down and gathers his shivering form towards him. The rain beats down upon them, getting in their mouths and their eyes, but they barely notice it. The skin beneath him is cold to the touch, he draws Gabriel nearer, bringing their lips together and their bodies flush. The first taste of Gabriel’s lips sends his heart soaring, all the fear and the hurt vanishing in the insistant press of his clever tongue. A sob escapes them. Sam’s not sure who it was. He holds Gabriel tighter, one arm wrapped around his torso, the other drifting upwards, fingers threading through his soaked hair, cradling the back of his head.

They only part when there’s no longer breath left to sustain them. He stares down at Gabriel’s upturned face. His lips are blue, skin frighteningly pale. The body beneath his hands shaking uncontrollably.

“S-sorry,” Gabriel whispers, voice barely audible beneath the sound of the rain and his ragged breaths.

They need to get him inside. _Fuck_. Sam pulls away, intending to remove his coat and wrap it around Gabriel. Gabriel whines in the back of his throat, clutching at Sam desperately. Panic starts to rise within him. He wraps Gabriel close in his embrace, making reassuring noises as he tries to draw him in the direction of Cas’ car. 

The noise of a honking horn startles them both. Sam whips his head around, almost toppling over as Gabriel grips him tighter. The door flings open and Cas emerges. A blanket is wrapped around them both. Relief floods his system, thoughts fleeing from his exhausted and wrung out mind. He just lets himself be led. Lets Cas take over, take care of them, as he just holds on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah sorry to have drawn out the suffering so long. I hope their reunion was at least a little satisying. Not much more to go. I'll probably post it in a oner tomorrow.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *WARNINGS*: Dean mangles the Bible - anyone who's religious, you have my sincere apologies. Blasphemy. Extreme threats of violence. Life in danger.

PRESENT DAY

DEAN

“You know, I would have stuck it out a lot longer with the whole religious thing if I knew it was a pick ‘n’ mix.”

The kid looks at him like he’s grown a second head, but he doesn’t tighten his grip on Sam’s neck, doesn’t make a move to cause any more damage. 

He’s just a kid. Barely left his teens. He looks so frickin young. Dean has to keep reminding himself what this asshole is capable of. He would have killed Sam. No doubt about it. And when Gabriel got in the way, when Gabriel stepped in front of that blade... He didn’t hesitate... Didn’t care where he hit, how deep, didn’t pay Gabriel much notice at all. Just took care of business and tossed him aside like he was a hunk of meat. And Dean was too late. Too late to do a damned thing about it. But Gabriel gave him one thing. Time. Time to get close enough. If Gabriel hadn’t done what he did... Then Dean would have been too late to save Sammy too. Dean feels something twist deep in his stomach. He’s tried to put it out of his mind. Tried not to think about it too closely. He can’t afford to lose his shit right now. Sammy needs him. Cas needs him. Besides, he doesn’t want to give this asshole the satisfaction.

He seems rather amused, like he’s waiting for the punchline, for a little entertainment, before he goes ahead and causes any more devastation. Dean curves his lips up into a smile of his own, willing his body to relax a little, hoping that his voice won’t betray the terror that’s pounding through his veins. The longer he can keep this psycho talking, the better the odds.

“I guess I was always a little put off by all the rules. I never figured I could choose. Don’t covet thy neighbor’s wife? Don’t covet thy neighbor’s ass? Hell, I did both. Maybe if just chose one, that would have been ok, right?”

“You’re just as twisted as your brother. You’ll burn in hell right alongside him and his little whore.”

Dean tenses, muscles coiled to spring into action, but the kid merely laughs in his face. Looks like he’s having too good a time for any righteous vengence. At least for now.

“See here’s the thing. Call me ignorant if you want. Call me twisted. Call me a perverted asshole. I’ve heard worse. But my brother and I, we traveled around a lot. You know what book’s always pretty darn available on the road, down to the last seedy motel in the back of beyond?” Dean raises an eyebrow. He thinks about taking a step forward, but the kid’s eyeing him a little warily now. No not yet. “The good book of course. And sometimes, when I was a little bored, when I’d maxed out my allowance on pay per views, I’d flick through a page or two. And you know what I found?”

The kid snorts out a laugh, lips quirking up into a condescending smirk. “Clearly not your moral rectitude.”

Dean lets out a little chuckle of his own. “You might be right on that part. But one thing I did figure out, was how much the Bible went on about not doing harm, not killing. I’m pretty sure Jesus wasn’t exactly down with murdering your fellow neighbors. Where as falling in love with another guy? Fucking one? Nothing but a footnote.”

Anger flashes in the kid’s eyes. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You dare to pervert the word of God? He...” the kid, drags Sam’s limp body further up the bars, arm tightening about his throat. “He made a mockery of it. He dared to defile God’s messenger, twisted the vision of his most mighty warrior-”

“It was a goddamn painting! You really think God has such a fragile ego? That he’d care about something like that? They’re just frickin human beings. Screwed up human beings making crappy choices. Lord knows I’ve seen Gabriel’s junk more times than I’d care to remember. He’s no damn angel, he’s just the annoying little asshole my brother fell in love with. The only damn person who could get my brother to smile again.” Dean swallows around the sudden lump in his throat. “He’s family and he sure as hell didn’t deserve what you did to him.”

“He deserved worse. Far worse. He deserved to suffer. And your brother with him. He must pay for what he’s done.”

“Who the hell gets to decide that? You?”

“Yes.” 

Dean watches in horror as the kid grabs hold of Sam’s hair, yanking it backwards. It’s time to act, but his limbs won’t move fast enough. He’s not going to make it.

“Not today.” 

Heart in his throat, Dean’s eyes leave his brother’s prone form, head whipping around to see a woman in uniform make her way into the room, weapon levelled at the psychopath who has his brother. It takes Dean only a fraction of a second to figure out who she is. The sheriff. He’s never met her, but he’s heard plenty. She’s a damn fine shot. If it comes down to it... He lets out the breath he was holding as the sheriff steps up beside him. It’s gonna be ok... It’s _got_ to be ok.

“Let him go and maybe you won’t be knocking on those pearly white gates just yet.” 

The kid, lets out a little laugh. He loosens his grip, but doesn’t let go.

“It was self defense your honor,” he drawls in a mocking tone of voice.

“Jeez really? You know the way I see it, that there boy’s out cold. I’m thinkin there’s not much defending needs to be done. What I’m thinking, is that we’ve got ourselves another case of attempted murder.”

“And I’m thinking my lawyer’s going to have a party with this. Civilians wondering into the cells. Assaulting prisoners.” He throws back his head and chuckles loudly. “There’s no way any of this will stick.”

Dean clenches his jaw. “Dream on, you fucking delusional dickbag. You damn well attacked an unarmed man in broad daylight. With a knife you brought along to the party. If that’s not premeditation I don’t know what the hell is.”

“My lawyer will-”

“You sure you want a lawyer?”

The kid’s now looking at the sheriff like maybe _she’s_ gone and grown a second head. He opens his trap to maybe start mouthing off again, but the sheriff beats him to it.

“You sure? I mean, the Bible doesn’t have much good to say about them. ‘But the Pharisees and the lawyers rejected God’s purpose for themselves, not having been baptized by John.’”

The kid narrows his eyes. “You know your scripture sheriff; you also know what they are.”

“Oh yeah, you betcha I do. You see, that boy you put in the hospital? He and I go way back. Helped me through some tough times. Worked here on a trial basis doin paper work and such, right back when I transferred here. Thought he’d maybe go work his way through police academy, become a deputy eventually...”

Dean’s eyebrows raise at that. Gabriel, thinking of becoming a deputy? Holy shit, he’d love to have been around for that whole messed up scenario. Maybe Gabriel was different back then, but Dean seriously doubts it. He can't picture him ever being any less... _Gabriel_. An instant later he gets distracted from the mental image by a soft groan. Sam? Careful not to draw the kid’s attention to it, Dean eyes his brother. Shit, he’s definitely coming around. Good thing the kid’s distracted. For the moment at least. If Sam makes any sudden movements though... They need to end this shit show. And soon. 

“...Didn’t exactly work out. That boy’s got a wild streak a mile wide. But thing is. He made a lot of friends in this department. A whole lot of people, love that boy like he’s their brother. Anything happens to him, or the man he loves so much and I’m thinking we’re gonna have a problem here.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“Just telling it like it is. You don’t wanna find out what I’m talking about, then you let him go right now. Because the way I see it, his life is in danger and maybe I’m gonna have to make a tough decision soon. I’m thinking you know which way it’ll go. Your call.”

Sam groans audibly, his eyelids flutter. _Fuck_. Dean takes a step forward. The kid’s eyes flick down to Sam, arm tightening about his airway as he starts to struggle. _No fuck no._ Dean just about makes out the sound of the sheriff’s gun cocking as he rushes forward, making sure not to block her view. Time seems to stand still, the moment frozen as he reaches out for his brother, as Sam’s eyes widen, a choked off cry issuing from between his lips. Their eyes meet. _Sammy fuck. Hang in there I’m coming for you._

And then, all of a sudden, it's over. The kid lets go. Sam’s being shoved roughly in his direction, crumpling to the floor as his legs give way beneath him, taking in a harsh rasping breath. Dean falls to his knees, ignoring the searing pain that travels up from his knee caps, grabbing hold of Sam before his head can come into contact with the linoleum. He’s already bleeding from a cut on his forehead, neck a riot of color. Dean doesn’t waste any time. Shuffling on his aching knees, he drags his brother away from the bars, not stopping until he’s well out of reach. Another deputy enters the room, one who was likely out with the sheriff at the time this whole shit show started. They converse, but Dean doesn’t pay them much attention, doesn’t pay much attention to the cold laughter coming from that cell either, his whole focus taken up with the shaking, broken figure in his arms. 

“I’ve got you Sammy. It’s ok. Everything’s going to be ok.”

Sam looks up at him with wild eyes. He might not believe a word of it, but he nods his head a fraction, arms reaching for Dean, circling around his back. Taking in a deep breath as his hammering heart beat finally starts to slow, Dean tightens his arms around his brother and just holds on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooo, that happened. I'm off to have a spot of lunch, but I'll be posting the last chapter and Epilogue shortly afterwards.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back at their apartment, Sam and Cas take care of Gabriel.

FOUR MONTHS EARLIER

GABRIEL

He can’t stop the violent shivering of his body. He fumbles at his buttons, fingers too numb to grasp the material. Letting go, he sways on his feet. Strong arms suddenly take hold of him, deft fingers taking care of what he can’t do for himself. His eyes start to sting again. Damn it but he thought he was all cried out.

“Shh, it’s ok, I’ve got you.”

He nods his head and lets Sam shed him of his sodden clothing. Sam turned up the thermistat as soon as they stumbled into the apartment, but it still feels bitterly cold. He feels like he’ll never be warm again. He leans into Sam’s touch. He knows it’s not helping, that it’s making it awkward to undress him, but he can’t seem to help it, can’t seem to stop leaning into that warmth, into the comfort of his touch. His jeans drag uncomfortably over his skin, like wet sandpaper drawn over his sensitive flesh. He grimaces, the shaking starting up again. Sam holds him steady a moment, before crouching down to help him step out of the material pooled about his ankles. He leans heavily on Sam’s broad shoulders, greatful again for his strength.

It’s a relief, to shed the clinging, sodden layers, but he still feels... still feels so damned cold. Sam holds him steady, sweeping wet clumps from his forehead before pressing a soft kiss right there and helping him over to the tub. 

He hisses in a breath as his toes hit the water, flinching at the burning sensation and pulling back with enough force to send him tumbling towards the ground. But Sam stops his fall, holds him steady, one warm arm wrapping around him. He dips his own hand in the water, carefully testing the temperature. He turns Gabriel around in his arms, biting his lip as he wipes away the tears that continue to fall.

“It’s... it’s the contrast. Once you get used to it, it’ll be ok. I promise. Just take it slow.”

Gabriel nods his head, letting Sam guide him, holding him tightly as he tentatively stretches his toes out towards the water. It still stings a little, but less than the first time. He takes in a deep breath and little by little, eases his foot into the water. 

It takes longer than he’d care to admit, Sam ever patient, a constant strong presence, holding him, rubbing reassuring circles into his shivering skin. But finally, finally, he’s seated in the tub, knees drawn up to his chest, head dipped as he curls in on himself.

“I’m... I’m sorry.”

He raises his head and regards Sam with wide startled eyes.

“What was that?” He mutters, because he’s really not sure he could have heard correctly. 

For one absurd moment he wonders if he’s still out there, on that bus stop bench, curled in on himself, body and mind finally giving up the ghost. But those eyes. He’s not sure in even his most fevered dreams if he could conjure up the intensity, the sheer beauty of that puppy dog gaze.

Sam kneels down beside the tub. He soaks a sponge in the water and attempts to press it into Gabriel’s shaking hands. Gabriel just stares at him, mouth ajar. Sam sighs and draws the sponge carefully over his shoulder. Gabriel lets out a whimper, fully aware of just how pathetic he sounds.

“Gabriel... I never should have...” Sam bites his lip again, puppy dog eyes at full intensity. 

Gabriel looks away. He can’t take it. If he looks at that for a minute more he’s going to start sobbing again. Wait did he ever stop? He reaches up a hand to his face. That would be a no.

“I was... I was angry. But I should have swallowed that shit down, taken you straight to the goddamn car.”

Gabriel huffs out a breath. When he speaks, his voice wavers all over the place, sounding all squeaky and raspy at the same time. “You had every right to be angry. I... I’m a screw up Sam. I screwed up everything.” A sob wracks his body. “I didn’t want to leave you but... I’m... I’m so goddamn sorry.” 

Sam makes a noise in the back of his throat. He drops the sponge in the water, hands coming up to frame Gabriel’s face, thumbs stroking over his cheekbones. “You’re not a screw up Gabe. I just... I wish you could have trusted that I never would have... I love you. Nothing’s going to change that. Not some stupid porno that you made years ago.”

His body’s still shaking, his eyes streaming and his heart feels a little like it’s been steam rollered, but he still levels a glare at Sam for that. “Stupid? I call that art.”

Sam’s face scrunches up in a way that’s all hilarious and ridiculous and hot at the same time. Gabriel’s insides swiftly turn to mush. Then Sam’s lips draw into a wide brilliant smile and Gabriel’s heart makes a valiant attempt to escape the confines of his ribcage. He shakes his head and picks up the sponge again, drawing it slowly over Gabriel’s skin. 

“It was certainly... ah... interesting.”

Gabriel eyes Sam’s expression intently. He doesn’t look disturbed or disgusted... no, his cheeks are flushing beautifully, but... Gabriel’s heart clenches, a thread of fear trying to worm it’s way through the relief, replacing it with doubt. 

“It wasn’t... I mean some of it... but I wouldn’t... I mean it’s not really uh...” Sam’s hands are back on his face, sponge forgotten, worry furrowing his brow.

“Gabriel...”

“I don’t want to go to an orgy with you!!” Gabriel yells into Sam’s startled face.

“Gabriel I don’t... I don’t want that either, I-”

“I don’t want to be all strapped up and whipped and I don’t, really don’t, want you to stick clamps on my nipples and electrodes to my-”

“Jesus Gabe!” Sam tilts his head upwards, one hand on his chin, the other rubbing those reassuring circles across his cheekbone. “I would never, never ask you to do something you weren’t comfortable with. Do you hear me?”

A sob wracks Gabriel’s body, tears welling in his eyes. Goddamn it, there’s not going to be any moisture left in his whole body at this rate. 

“Can you.. can you hold me?” 

It escapes him before he’s even registered the desire. Gabriel wants to roll is eyes at how pathetic he sounds, even to his own ears, but he needs... God he needs...

Sam nods his head, drawing back just long enough to shed his clothing. Gabriel notes just how damp they are. Sam must have been hella uncomfortable like that, but he put his own discomfort aside, focused his whole being on taking care of Gabriel. He feels that dizzying rush again. It’s almost too much.

A hand at his back urges him to shuffle forward, then Sam’s climbing in behind him. It’s awkward as all hells, the space far too cramped to do this comfortably for Sam, but he somehow makes it work, bent knees bracketing Gabriel’s body, strong arms wrapping around him and drawing him back into a warm embrace. All the tension that was still held in his frame disapates. He leans his head back against Sam’s chest, his taut muscles finally letting go of that pent up fear, fear that he realises now, he’s been holding onto for far too long. Ever since they got together, maybe even before that. Ever since he looked up into those gorgeous hazel eyes, ever since he got lost in that beautiful gaze and fell deeper than he’d ever fallen before.

One arm just holds him steady, fingers spread across his belly, the other picks up the sponge, and slowly, ever so slowly, rubs circles across his chest. Not erotic, just firm and reassuring. His body reacts, nipples hardening, cock plumping up and nudging against Sam’s hand, but they both find no need to act on it. He just leans back into Sam’s embrace and lets Sam take care of him. Lets himself be loved.

~~~

He’s wrapped up in Sam’s old sweater and sweatpants, the ends neatly rolled up to his ankles, soft socks adorning his feet. Cas presses a huge mug into his hands, big enough to be a bowl. It’s filled with a heavenly smelling warm liquid. He takes a wiff, then a slow deliberate sip. Soup. Vegetable soup. Cassie made him soup. He bustles off, busying himself in the kitchen. Gabriel watches his movements from the comfort of the sofa, takes in the tight line of his shoulders, the taut muscles in his back. He feels a deep pang of guilt. He wasn’t just planning to leave Sam behind. He almost... almost left Cassie too. Again.

Sam emerges from his room, padding over to the sofa as he pulls a long sleeved shirt over his head. He drops down beside Gabriel and immediately draws him into his side. Careful not to tip hot soup over them both, Gabriel shuffles closer, leaning into his embrace. 

“He was just worried about you,” Sam says, following his gaze, low enough that only Gabriel will hear it. He presses a kiss to Gabriel’s temple, chin coming to rest on top of his damp hair.

Unable to stop the worry, Gabriel sips his soup slowly, watching Cas all the while. But soon the weariness overtakes him. He feels his lids start to close. Hands carefully take the bowl from his grip. A kiss is pressed into his hair. He blinks his eyes open, looking up into a bright blue gaze instead of a hazel one. He blinks stupidly for a moment, until the sleepy fog clears from his mind. He must have drifted off. Sam’s no longer beside him. 

“I’m sorry.” He croaks out, his voice sounding well past raspy and heading solidly towards amphibian.

“I know.” Cas purses his lips and then he’s leaning forward, grabbing hold of Gabriel and drawing him into a tight embrace. 

Gabriel squeezes him back. Cassie doesn’t let go. For long moments he just holds on. Gabriel pats his back awkwardly. He thinks absurdly of patting his head next and muttering, _there, there_ , but he holds his tongue, just lets Cas get his hug on.

“Your family is here for you Gabriel. You must never forget that. Thank you for coming back to us.”

“Shut up,” Gabriel blurts out. Honestly, he can’t take much more of this. Any more and he’s going to end up bawling like a baby again.

He winces as Cas draws back at last, giving him a long glare. “If you attempt to do such again for no good reason, then I will send Luke after you.” He raises an eyebrow. “And then you really will be sorry.” 

Gabriel makes a face, Cas smiles, leaning forward to press one last kiss to his temple. Yeesh, enough with the slobbering. Gabriel makes a show of rubbing it away as Cas moves away to the door, bidding Sam a good night before finally taking his leave.

Sam raises his eyebrows in Gabriel’s direction. 

“What was that?”

Gabriel shrugs his shoulders, one corner of his mouth tilting upwards with the motion.

Sam laughs and shakes his head, making his way over and wrapping one arm around Gabriel and burrowing the other under his legs. _What the-_ Gabriel lets out a startled yelp as he’s lifted into the air, bridal style, and carried towards the bedroom, a series of snorting laughs issuing from Sam’s airways all the way.

“Not funny Samsquatch. Not funny at all.”

“I don’t know, your face...” Sam smiles down at him, swinging him around fast enough to make his head spin, angling them just right to make it through the doorway, another startled yelp escaping from between Gabriel’s lips with the motion. “It was... a little funny.”

Gabriel rolls his eyes as Sam places him in the centre of the bed. He’s merely met with a dorkily self satisfied smile before Sam turns his attention to pulling the drawn back covers over his frame. Gabriel makes a face and snaps his fingers in the air, letting out a little chuckle as Sam’s expression becomes gloriously baffled. 

“Hello? Romeo. Haven’t brushed my teeth yet. If we’re gonna get all hot and heavy, you probably don’t want me to forget that little ablution, given that I’m preeeeetty sure Cassie used extra garlic in that-”

He breaks off into a strangled yell as he’s whipped off the bed and whisked off in the direction of the bathroom.

“Hells Sam, I’m one hot minute away from blowing my load all over you. And by _load_ I mean _soup_. And by _blowing_ I mean _pu_ -”

“Jesus Gabe,” Sam mutters.

But Gabriel doesn’t miss the good humor in the cadence of his voice, he doesn’t miss the way that Sam squeezes him a little tighter, nor the look in his eyes as they meet in the bathroom mirror.

He doesn’t miss the way that Sam holds him extra close when they fall into bed together. The way he takes care to wrap the covers tightly around them. Nor the look in his eyes when Gabriel insists that he unwraps them from this tight coccoon of hell, because there’s no way in all hells they can hope to fuck like this.

They don’t fuck, not tonight. But they do make love. Sam insists that Gabriel keeps most of his clothes on, he wraps the covers tightly back around them. Gabriel rolls his eyes, but then they roll backwards in his skull, because Sam’s head is burrowing under his sweater and his sweet lips are closing over Gabriel’s nipple. 

They take it slow. Sam won’t be hurried and despite the weariness weighing him down, Gabriel doesn’t want to rush. He lets his mind drift, lets his body be taken to new heights. When he comes, shaking and gasping and tangled in the bedsheets, nerves singing out a perfect song, he thinks that his heart has never felt so full to bursting. 

Sam holds him close and whispers sweet nothings into his skin. Takes care of everything. Takes care of him.

Sleep starts to take hold, weariness dragging him under. But one last thought surfaces before he looses his tenuous grip on conscious thought. _Never again. I’ll never leave you again._ And then he doesn’t think... doesn’t think at all.


	20. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *WARNINGS*: please note the tags. This chapter deals with the aftermath of a domestic assault. While the assault itself is not detailed, some injuries are briefly described. Possible squick on a character pairing. Note that the character is quite OOC in this verse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note the headers. We're going back a little further at the start of this Epilogue.

THREE AND A HALF YEARS EARLIER

GABRIEL

Gabriel narrows his eyes at the woman. She just looks back at him. Determined. Patient. What was her name again? He can't remember. He wasn't exactly listening all that closely. She’s maybe average height, middle aged. Late 40s? Maybe just edging into her fifties. Long dark hair. Strong. Attractive. Gabriel thinks of maybe flirting with her. Maybe that’ll get her to go away. But she reminds him a little too much of his dead mother for comfort. Especially with that look. He rolls his eyes instead, gingerly climbing out of bed and gathering his belongings. It’s time he blew this joint. He’s been here far too long as it is.

“I don’t need a shrink, I just need a goddamn vicodin and a bottle of bourbon. To drown my sorrows and forget about this merry shit storm.”

“That’s good, because I’m no therapist. I’m an artist.”

Gabriel pauses and lets out a loud chuckle.

Art therapy? Hells, that’s a new one. He whistles long and low, rocking back on his heels. “Are you gonna get me to draw my pain? Get my Mick Jagger on? Paint it all black?”

She lets out a little laugh of her own, crossing her arms across her chest and leaning back against the empty bed across from him.

“If it helps. Some people want me to share their story. Make something out of it. But I’m not here in that capacity. I’m just a volunteer. Sometimes it helps to talk to a stranger. Starts the healing off the right way. Better than losing yourself at the bottom of one too many bottles.”

Gabriel rolls his eyes again. He’s not a goddamn alcoholic and he’s not... He’s really not...

“I’m not a victim,” he hisses, jaw clenching as he glares at her. 

She eyes him carefully, expression... that’s not pity, he thought he’d see pity... No it’s something else. He looks away. Regardless, he can’t take that shit.

“No I’d wager you’re not,” she says after a beat, tone measured. “I’d wager you’re a survivor.”

He snorts out another little laugh. It sounds bitter, even to his own ears. “So you know my story. Congratulations. It’s not like the whole damn town knows my crap or anything. Knows all about my tragic past, all my little screw ups, all the sordid deets. My reputation proceeds me, good to know.”

He flings off the hospital gown, not caring one bit that he’s exposing himself completely to this stranger. If she won’t leave? Then she can have a damn eyeful.

He expects coughing, spluttering, exclamations. Maybe a few fruity swear words. But nada. He looks across at her. She merely raises one sardonic eyebrow in his direction.

“Aint got nothing I haven’t seen a million times over.”

It’s Gabriel’s turn to raise his eyebrows. Ooh kinky. Maybe he’s misjudged her.

She unfolds her arms and sits her ass down on the bed across from him. Looks like she’s settling in, not leaving like he hoped.

“I’m an artist Gabriel. And a tutor besides. Teach a bunch of students how to draw the human body most days of the damn week. You aint gonna phase me by pulling that shit.”

She just looks up at him, arms crossing again, waiting patiently for him to start dressing himself. Gabriel looks away, pursing his lips, then hissing in a breath as he pulls his undershirt over his head. It’s got blood on it. Great, just great.

“You’ve dealt with a lot of crap in your life Gabriel.” 

She’s been quiet for so long, that Gabriel almost forgot she was there. He startles, hands freezing in the process of pulling his jeans carefully up over his bruised ass.

“You don’t have to do it alone. There’s nothing wrong with accepting a little help from time to time.”

He makes a face and turns around. “I don’t need any help. I’ve got my pain in the ass bros for that. I’ve got me. I’ve made it this far on my own.” He chuckles again. “I may have shit all to my name, no job and rent past due, but...” He shrugs his shoulders. “What’s new?”

She draws her eyebrows together in a concerned frown. Gabriel rolls his eyes again. Yeesh, enough with the mother hen look. She doesn’t know him from Adam. What’s with all the concern? 

He points to the cut on his cheek, circling his index finger around the wound. It still stings like all Hells. He just hopes the doc’s not just placating him, hopes to hell it doesn’t scar. Because the last thing he needs is a great big scar right smack bang in the centre of his face. “The asshole who did this? Oh, just so happens to have been my boss.”

The look she’s giving him. What is that? Still not pity. Not disbelief. He can’t figure it out.

“That means my sorry, bruised and battered ass is down one job. Yeesh, I know, sleeping with the boss... Reap what you sow and all that jazz. I was never exactly down with taking the easy, cautious route. My lil bro... Hells, he saw this coming, but I was a little too busy getting my brains banged out to care.”

Gabriel draws in a long breath through his nose. He doesn’t want to think about that dick. Wants to forget the whole sorry mess happened at all. Cassie was right, knew right from the start that Amadeus was no good. Even Luke... used to call him _Asmo_ deus, Prince of demons. Even he fucking knew. What the fuck sort of name is that anyways? Named after a goddamn composer. He certainly had delusions of grandeur. And Gabriel never quite measured up. Sure he was good for a fuck, but he was always “too much”... an embarassment. He bought Gabriel new clothes. Designer threads. And Gabriel was too stupid to see. Thought the lavish gifts showed he cared, but now it’s so obvious. He was shaping Gabriel, trying to make him measure up. When he insisted Gabriel cut his hair, short back and sides, getting rid of all signs of those messy curls... It should have been a giant red flag. But he was too fucking stupid to see it. Maybe, admittedly, a little too taken in by the luxurious lifestyle. The fancy pants restaurants, the upper class cocktail bars and swanky hotel rooms.

He takes in another deep breath. No. It’s over. He doesn’t have to deal with that dickbag again. Jimmy told him as soon as they found him. Stuck by his side after he collected all the evidence, took all the pictures. Donna even reassured him herself, her anger clear even over the static of the radio. He’s going to pay for what he did. The sheriff’s going to stay right there until he’s discharged, drag him back in cuffs. Gabriel shakes his head. Enough. It’s done. 

He buttons up his jeans, runs his hands through his short hair and looks up at the woman. She’s still here, waiting patiently, a reassuring presence. Woa woa woa. When did that happen? When did he decide it was ok to trust her? It doesn’t matter. She may be ok, may be on his side, but she sure as shit can’t change his situation. Sure has shit can’t help him in any way that’ll make a difference right now.

“Look uh... thanks for the concern and all, but unless you can wave that magic paintbrush of yours and conjure up... hmm I don’t know, something useful... like a job, I’m gonna bounce.”

She purses her lips, a thoughful expression playing over her features. For one absurd moment Gabriel wonders if she’s going to reach into her pocket and brandish that very paint brush, wave away his worries with one sweep of the handle. He shakes his head and turns around to pick up his suit jacket. He grimaces. This isn’t him, isn’t him at all. First chance he gets, he’s ditching this crap. Maybe build a pyre in his back yard. Except he doesn’t have a back yard. Likely he won’t have a damn apartment soon enough.

“Maybe I can help you with that.”

He spins on his heel, arms halfway into his jacket, eyebrows raising almost to his hairline.

“Seems we’re losing one of our best models. Got a place with some big agency in New York. We could do with another regular contract to pick up the slack.”

Gabriel just gapes at her. A model? Is she really suggesting that he...?

“Close your mouth boy, you look like a guppy.” She gets to her feet, lips pursed. “Of course you’d need a fair bit of training. Maybe start up some yoga or somethin. Helps with the strength, endurance, flexibility...”

“I’m plenty flexible,” Gabriel interrupts, eyebrows dancing about his forehead.

The corners of her mouth twitch upwards before she continues. “No doubt. And you don’t seem to have much problem with getting naked in front of strangers.” She raises one eyebrow at him. Gabriel just rolls his eyes again. “And here’s the kicker. You strike me as someone who maybe likes to piss off those who’ve done you wrong. Aint much we can do about the asshole who screwed you over this time, but I gather Donna’s got that one covered.”

Gabriel’s brow furrows. As astute as that statement might be... what’s she getting at?

“The arrogant bastard who messed up your future though... well at least one of them...”

Zachy? Is she talking about Zachy? The name fits. Arrogant. Check. Bastard. Check. But what the Hells has that got to do with him potentially being paid to take his clothes off...? Again.

“Guess who just enrolled in my class?” 

Gabriel’s eyebrows raise almost to his hairline. Holy cats. 

The woman nods her head a fraction. “What say you come train with me? What say you turn up to that first class, drop that robe and strut out there with your head held high? I don’t know about you, but I’d rather like to see the expression on that smarmy asshole’s face.”

Maybe, just maybe, things are starting to look up. And maybe... just this once... maybe he can accept a helping hand. Gabriel rocks back on his heels a wide smile spreading across his features.

“Hells yeah.”

~~~

PRESENT DAY

SAM

Sam takes in a deep breath as he steps into the room on shaking legs. His eyes alight on the figure lying in the hospital bed. Wires and tubes stretch out from his still form, connected to machines and IV stands by his bedside. It’s less than he expected, but somehow worse. He looks small. So damn small. Despite the somewhat awkward difference in their heights, despite the constant jibes his brother makes, Sam’s never really thought of Gabriel as small. He was always... larger than life, his presence filling up any room he walked into, his smile lighting up... God he looks so small. 

Sam closes his eyes tightly, muscles tensing. A reassuring hand squeezes his shoulder as a sob escapes from between his lips.

“It’s ok Sammy. See, he’s in good hands. They’re takin good care of him. He’s gonna be ok.”

Sam’s not sure if Dean even believes what he says. It’s almost like he’s functioning on autopilot, repeating the same words over and over again. Somehow it doesn’t matter. Somehow it still helps. Some of the tension uncoils from his body at that touch, at the soothing tone of his brother’s voice. He nods his head a fraction. He’s not ready for words, but he hopes his brother gets it anyway. 

Opening his eyes, he steps forward. One foot in front of the other, lowering himself into the solitary chair by the bedside. He steels himself before looking back at Dean. Another nod, another look. An exchange, not of words, but Dean understands him anyway. Pursing his lips and giving Sam one small tight smile, Dean leaves the room. He’ll wait outside, be there in an instant if Sam needs him. Cas too. Maybe even Luke. Something has changed between them. An odd sort of respect. Sam knows that Luke still doesn’t hold onto much hope, but he doesn’t share his nihilistic outlook. Not anymore. He just stares into space. Just waits. Quiet. Broken. Just like the rest of them.

Biting his lip, Sam draws his eyes back to Gabriel’s prone form. He had thought that Gabriel would look like he was sleeping, even with the ventilator, the tubes and wires and the insistant beeping of the machines around him. But... but he doesn’t. Because Gabriel doesn’t sleep like this, body held in a stiff line, arms laid out by his side, head in the center of his pillow, with hair swept neatly back from his face. There’s nothing neat or ordered about the way Gabriel sleeps. He’s a sprawl of limbs. He’s warm breath and maybe... on occasion... a little bit of drool, pooling on Sam’s bare skin. His hair’s ever tangled, his bedhead spactacular and so goddamn beautiful it makes Sam’s chest ache. He’s sleepy golden eyes blinking up at him. He’s a hard aching length pressed into his thigh and then rubbing right there until Sam smiles and draws him closer, maybe wraps a hand around him, maybe dips his head under the covers...

This isn’t sleep. It’s too peaceful. Too quiet. Too still. 

His eyes are stinging, vision blurring. He rubs a shaking hand over his face. But he doesn’t drop that hand to his side, instead he reaches forward, tentatively taking hold of the hand lying still in front of him. It’s warm. There are no wires here, the IV and heart monitor are on the other side. It’s just Gabriel. Those perfect hands. So much smaller than his own. He threads their fingers together, squeezes gently. The hand stays limp in his grasp. No movement, no indication that Gabriel felt anything at all.

_Are you still in there?_

Sam swallows around the lump in his throat, takes another shaking breath. He lets the tears fall. 

“I...” His voice comes out as a harsh croaky rasp. He swallows again. It hurts to talk, the painkillers he took doing little to ease the ache in his throat, or the dull throbbing of his head. But... but he needs... He needs to let this out. To share with his lover... his best friend. “I... I did something really stupid today. Almost got my idiot ass killed. Almost... I guess ah... I guess I’m not going to be joining Mensa anytime soon.” He lets out a little laugh, it sounds more like a sob. “I really need you to wake up... Need you to tell me what a goddamn fool I’ve been. Luke too... God your brother. He’s been a... a giant bag of dicks... almost got himself arrested and... I’m not sure Cassie can handle it.” He smiles as he realises he just used Gabriel’s pet name. “Dean doesn’t know what to do... He keeps on buying cups of crappy coffee that no one wants to drink... Keeps on hovering and... Gabe I think... I think maybe I saw a tear. Just the one but uh... I think you really need to wake up now and...” He smiles and dips his head. “You need to never let him forget it... Oh sure he’ll deny it, call you names and roll his eyes but we’ll all know the truth. He cares about you. You’re family and he’s just as worried as we all are...”

Sam falls silent, lets the tears fall, listens to the steady beep of the heart monitor, watches the gentle rise and fall of Gabriel’s chest.

“We... we need you to come back to us... Your family needs you.” 

He draws in another shaking breath, eyes drifting up to Gabriel’s face. He looks so pale. So still. So damn fragile. But he’s still there. Sam has to believe that. Has to believe that he’s still in there somewhere. 

“Gabriel, I need you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok a few notes on Amadeus/Asmodeus. As you probably gathered from the text, the Asmodeus in this verse is quite a bit different to the evil dickbag Prince of Demons on the show. Though clearly still an enormous dickbag. He's a businessman. Very self important and judging by what he asked of Gabriel, a bit more traditional in his styling. Though I suspect he still has that horrible suit in his wardrobe somewhere. Definitely more charming. And Gabriel... well he does sometimes like the finer things in life. He was perhaps a little willfully blind to some of the man's character flaws.
> 
> And right here is why Luke goes about threatening his brothers suitors. Frankly, I don't blame him. Between Asmodeus and Zachariah's son messing with Cas at school. Yeah, of course Luke goes into protective brother mode.
> 
> Ok so that's it for now. I clearly left you with one enormous cliff hanger though. Please be assured that I have begun writing part two, but I won't be posting for awhile. I want to get well into this next fic before I start posting as it's going to be a slightly complicated write, juggling a fair few plotlines and characters. Basically I want to make sure I can go back and edit where needed if an unexpected plot point comes up. I do plan, but I also let the characters guide me. 
> 
> Thanks for the love and support, despite me torturing you with this. Apologies for the confusion a stupidly missed header caused. I hope you've... I'm not sure 'enjoyed' is the term I'm looking for... but I hope the feels have been in some way satisying and fear not, the happy ending is in sight and I've got at least one more fic planned for the future. One that promises to be almost angst free and almost entirely fluffy and silly. Much as the angst is satisying to write, I think we could all use that after this! Anyways thanks again and hopefully see you in the not too distant future!
> 
> Edit: apologies for not ending this part with Gabriel waking up and muttering something about porn stars. There's still a little way to go with the whole angsty traumay angst.


End file.
